


Hearts That Bind

by queeniesye



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Countryside Setting, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Lesbian Sex, Obsession, Oral Sex, Romance, Slice of Life, Tender - Freeform, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeniesye/pseuds/queeniesye
Summary: In the small town of Icicle Inn, lovers Aerith Gainsborough and Tifa Lockhart have one another's hearts. But conflicting wants and sense of duty may set them apart.
Relationships: A little bit of Cloud Strife/Zack Fair, Aerith Gainsborough & Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Aerith Gainsborough & Tifa Lockhart & Elmyra Gainsborough, Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart, Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart & Johnny
Comments: 20
Kudos: 42





	1. A Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [Snow in September](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889195/chapters/68290984), a Zakkura/Clack fic by [moonbehindmountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbehindmountain/pseuds/moonbehindmountain) that's inspired by this countryside AU!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH I'm so excited to finally be releasing this story after MONTHS of dreaming about it. This is a world where characters who died/have died in the original FFVII live on. It's like an AU where everyone is happy and living life as it is, without any threat of a science experiment running amok, a meteor that's going to fall from the sky and a pandemic lmao! 
> 
> It is where both Aerith and Tifa can live happily in love with one another!
> 
> This will be a mini multi-chapter story but I don't know how long will this last. Fingers crossed.

Plumes of white steams drifted into the air from three enormous black cauldrons hanging on a sturdy metal pole, filling the spacious brick-walled chamber with a saccharine aroma.

 _Chop_! _Chop_! _Chop_!

The sound reverberated from the wooden board where Aerith was cutting pieces of apples into several slices that she gathered into a number of clay bowls. Without exchanging as much as a word, a man would take these bowls, and drop the slices of apples into one of the cauldrons. If not Aerith’s slices of apples, he would take a bowl of crushed berries from those working with huge pestles and mortars and do the same. Bubbling vigorously inside the cauldrons were dense and darkly-coloured fluids that were kept stirred by another woman.

On a long wooden table situated close to Aerith, a group of people was labouring at mixing the same fluids with honey, before pouring and sealing them into glass jars. Sealed jars were assembled into crates, to be moved to the next door chamber and displayed on shelves.

These were the commotions of everyday life at Faremis Wholesale, the only store in the small town of Icicle Inn specializing in the making and selling of jams made from fruits harvested from local farmers. Aerith may be the heiress but her father, Gast Faremis, refused to treat her any different from those working for him.

“You wouldn’t be able to do a good job inheriting this business if you don’t know how it operates in the first place!” he had told her.

So she had to work, either in the kitchen as one of the labourers making the jams, or tending to customers who came to purchase the jams at the front store. By the end of the day, she would be returning home in a dress stained with blotches of jam and palms rough from endless hours of working, like everyone else.

From the front store, she heard the familiar bellow of a woman who was in charge of keeping the establishment running smoothly, “Aeeeeeerith! Come over here and exchange places with Borin!”

She followed what was instructed of her and arrived in front of Myrna Wallace – or the Iron Lady, as others liked to call her. Being an heiress also did not exempt her from getting yelled at by this woman. “Geez Myrna, do you always have to shout? I can hear you just fine.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it, young lady,” Myrna asserted, as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Aerith was counting the jars on sale, her effort to keep in track with the number of stocks, when the entrance doorbell rang. She turned and found two figures approaching the counter while carrying woven baskets on their backs. One of them, a woman with hair as black as onyx gemstones, managed to pull her lips into a smile.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted, in the warmest of voices that sounded like they were made by movements on the strings of a harp.

She grinned, never removing her eyes from the woman. “Good morning, Tifa.”

“We’re delivering baskets of strawberries today,” Tifa’s male companion was saying. Aerith almost forgot that someone else was there with them.

Aerith inspected the content of their baskets, and when she was certain that their produce met the necessary criteria, she paid them accordingly. “I know you’re supposed to be delivering blueberries tomorrow but can we have raspberries instead? We’re pretty low on stock.”

Tifa nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll let my father know.”

After bidding Aerith farewell, the duo made their way to the entrance door. The male companion stepped out first and with him walking ahead, Aerith observed as Tifa mouthed to her, _see you later at the field._

***

Flocks of birds flew across a sky that meld shades of orange with pink tints as the sun set over the horizon. Tall lush green grasses covering the prairies were swaying in harmony with the breeze that was blowing to the west. Sauntering along the winding pathways through the prairies were farmers carrying their tools of trade, calling it a day and heading back to the comfort of their homes. Aerith walked among them, not once missing to greet anyone who passed by with her usual affability, until she reached her journey’s end – a field of pink, white and crimson cosmoses beside a large farm accommodating no less than five hundred cows and sheep.

From afar, her eyes could already discern Tifa sitting among the cosmoses. The long strands of black hair jutting out of her white scarf tied around her head wavered with the wind, a sight that never fail to dazzle Aerith regardless of the many times she had beheld it. She thread across the field towards Tifa and knelt behind her back before wrapping her arms around Tifa’s chest. When Tifa turned her head sideways, Aerith gave her a kiss and felt the way she giggled on her lips. 

“Good work today, Aerith,” Tifa said, caressing away what she suspected to be soot from the area under her right eye.

Aerith gave her a peck on her forehead and settled next to her, holding her hands firmly in hers. “Good work today to you too, Tifa.”

It had been three years since they became lovers. Tifa had just started working at her family’s farm, Lockhart Grange, when she first came to Faremis Wholesale to deliver peaches… and that was how they met. Being so close in age, they spent many free time together frolicking around vast fields and prairies, fishing and swimming by the pristine rivers, or shopping for dresses, scarves and aprons at the heart of town. She was not sure how it started but her feelings for Tifa quickly developed into something more than comradely. Not one to be irresolute, she made her feelings known during one of their occasional sleep-outs by giving Tifa a kiss underneath an evening sky full of stars.

Tifa accepted it… and that was how she knew their feelings of love were mutual.

As they sat side by side among the cosmoses, Aerith started complaining, “Reno still can’t get the hang of cooking the strawberries. He almost burned them today!”

“I’m sure he’ll get better. He’s good once he get used to something. Just give him a little bit more time,” Tifa replied, chuckling.

Aerith sighed deeply, “Frankly, I’m running out of patience.” When she gave Tifa a glance, she queried, “How about you? Is Barret still giving you a hard time about picking the right berries?”

“Unfortunately!” Tifa’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed. It made Aerith’s lips bend into a smile too.

The day was turning colder as more wind began to blow through the town. Shadows from the mountains grew leaner and elongated on the prairies as light from the sun grew dimmer. The colourful cosmoses moved frantically, creating rustling sounds that were pleasant to the ears. Far off, mooing from the cows and bleats from the sheep merged along the rest of nature’s noises. Aerith fell back onto the ground and closed her eyes to stoke her senses, so she could smell the earth better and feel it move around her.

Tifa broke their silence. “This town… is just too beautiful. I never want to leave it.”

“Not even for Midgar?” Aerith countered. Midgar was paradise for young small town folks like them. Those who did not find it ideal to live by farming and fishing alone had all migrated to Midgar as they sought for other prospects. It was part of Aerith’s ambition to expand her family business to the prosperous city.

Tifa decided to lie on the ground with her. “Not even for Midgar,” she accented.

“I still dream of going to Midgar, though…” Aerith paused for some time before resuming, “But since you want to stay here… then I’ll stay too. I’ll make it work somehow.”

Tifa’s face peered at her out of the blue, blocking her view from all else. “You would?”

She nodded with sheer certainty. “Yes. I never want to be apart from you, Tifa.”

“Thank you…” Tifa said and leaned in to give her a kiss.

Tifa rested her head onto her chest, and they were quiet again as they watched the sky turned darker, beckoning for the evening to come. They were immersed with the presence of one another that they fail to notice the presence of another in the vicinity.

His voice echoed from a distance, followed by the shuffling of his footsteps on the ground. “Am I supposed to wait for you girls to cuddle all night long or are you going to leave?” Then he appeared, towering over them with a brown and white houndstooth flat cap on top of his silly spiky blonde hair, all dressed in a typical farmer’s drab of a long sleeve white shirt and a pair of brown trousers supported by suspenders.

“Must you always spy on us, Cloud?” Aerith hissed as she sat up.

Cloud clicked his tongue. “It’s long past since the farm’s closed for the day.”

“Oh hush! You have no problem with letting us roam around past the closing time before.”

Cloud widened his eyes as he pressed on his words, “That was _before_ I got caught red handed after cleaning up your messes.”

Cloud was Tifa’s childhood friend and had been living across her throughout their whole life. Naturally, their families’ close ties landed him a position as one of the farmers at Lockhart Grange. After disclosing to him about their relationship, Tifa managed to convince him to be their _co-conspirator_. At times when they wanted to go against the rules, like staying out late at night or wandering around at the heart of town past their curfews, Cloud would be covering for them and he had a knack for it! But he got careless one day, forgetting to lock the farm gates after they left and was reprimanded, sternly enough for him to be more cautious than he ever was.

“Fine… we’ll go home now,” Aerith conceded.

Tifa was more than glad to let him tag along, “Let’s walk home together – the three of us!”

They walked back home in darkness, unable to see beyond areas that were barely lit by lanterns randomly installed along the winding pathways through the prairies. Night insects chirped and owls hooted as the trio engaged in robust conversations, until it was time for them to separate.

***

It was almost dinner time back at the Faremis household and Aerith was hovering over the cauldron by the hearth, stirring a soup that was boiling cubes of diced salmon into a healthy pink colour. At a long table placed at the corner of the kitchen, her mother, Ifalna was cutting crunchy well-baked loaf of bread into several pieces to be served alongside a block of cheese. The sound of a spoon banging against a bowl came from her father, Gast, who was mixing spinaches, tomatoes and watercress coated in olive oil and vinegar together. When the preparations were finished, and the food were all dished out, the whole family settled at the dining table and started passing plates around.

“There’s a merchant from Midgar who’s going to come over this weekend,” Gast said in between slurping the salmon soup from a small clay bowl. “They say he’s going to inspect the local farms and foresee another potential trade relations between Midgar and Icicle Inn.”

Aerith heard Ifalna contemptuously expel a gust of breath. “Again? Why can’t these people just leave us alone?” Unlike her father who was more open to opportunities for innovation, her mother was more of a traditionalist. She had migrated to the town, along with a few others as the last line of members hailing from an ancient group of people that made it their life’s mission to protect the planet’s natural environment.

Gast chuckled. “They never will, my love, as long as there are opportunities to generate more income for their city.”

“Who’s this merchant exactly, father?” Aerith probed while applying a spread of cheese onto her slice of bread.

She was munching on the bread when he answered, “I think the name’s Johnny. A peculiar fellow with extravagant taste.”

“Aren’t they all?” Ifalna remarked, nibbling on a forkful of the salad.

Gast added, “He has reserved the entire Strife Inn for himself and his associates too!” When Ifalna rolled her eyes in repugnance, he chortled.

Though equally repulsed by the behaviour of the man, Aerith was not surprised. She had grown accustomed to hearing tales about the pompous nature of most merchants from Midgar. She never dwell on them and instead thought of ways to foster affiliations with these merchants to reap future benefits that would help expand her family business.

The last time someone from Midgar came to town was one summer ago. The likelihood of meeting another one so soon, who was also a merchant, excited her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerith is technically Aerith Faremis here. Don't worry... I'm not going to completely erase Elmyra's existence. She probably will appear in later chapters.


	2. The Merchant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the greatest pleasure of writing this chapter is introducing Tifa's mother. I've always wanted the OG (and Remake!) to give more details about Tifa's family background. I've given her the simple name of Ena, which means 'a gift from God' or 'clever' in Japanese as my headcanon has always been that Tifa is half-Wutaian. But the chosen name is meant to be ambiguous in a sense that it can be read as both an Eastern and Western name.

His hair was velvet red and sat stiffly upwards on top of his head.

That was the first thing Tifa noticed when the merchant, Johnny, stepped out of a steam powered black carriage that only Midgar citizens could afford. He wore a white suit that bare his chest and oddly in coordination with his pair of dark blue snakeskin loafers. As he was waving a hand fan made of silk that was probably purchased from the remote village of Wutai, gold bracelets gleamed from around his wrists. He was the quintessence of wealth that life at Midgar could bring and it came as no surprise to Tifa that folks from small towns like hers would welcome him with open arms, irrespective of the notoriety associated with people such as him.

“Look at him. Always too keen with these outsiders,” her mother, Ena Lockhart remarked as they were peeking through the reading room windows to watch her father, Brian Lockhart fervently offering Johnny his greetings. “Let’s join him before he starts pestering us to.”

The exuberant conversation between Brian and Johnny about the Lockhart family farms came to a halt when the mother and daughter duo arrived. Johnny was eying Tifa with a particular kind of intensity that made her feel discomfited. 

A smirk crossed his lips as he asked, “And… who is this?”

“This is my wife, Ena and my daughter, Tifa,” Brian answered, eager to introduce his family.

But Johnny’s eyes remained fixated on Tifa. Without giving her the chance to refuse, he grabbed and planted a sensuous kiss onto one of her hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Tifa.”

“…it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Johnny,” Tifa fibbed, with cheeks flushing out of revulsion. She found his audacity more offensive rather than flattering.

Brian had a different slant to the chain of events, revealed through the chuckle of amusement that he made. It aggravated Tifa’s uneasiness.

Ena was more sentient to her feelings. “Let us bring you to a tour around our farms, Mr. Johnny,” she suggested, which Tifa surmised to be an effort to pull the merchant’s attention away from her daughter. It proved to be effective, with Johnny more than glad to accept her offer, much to Tifa’s relief. 

While her parents walked shoulder to shoulder with Johnny through pathways in between large plots of land towards their farms, Tifa lagged behind, preferring to maintain a distance from the merchant. Against the earthy backdrop, Johnny stood out like a magma waiting to erupt out of the Northern Crater. His presence instilled in her a sense of foreboding that she could not quite comprehend. The trio ahead of her made a stop at the area where the apple trees were and when she saw Brian motioned for her to come forward, she sped her pace.

“You sure took your sweet time keeping up with us,” Brian said, with a tone of voice layered with a slight ire. Tifa apologised, to which he dismissed, “Never mind. Help us pick one of the apples from this tree for Mr. Johnny to have a taste.”

Tifa did as she was told and warily handed the apple she had plucked to the merchant. When he retrieved the apple out of her hand, she could feel his fingers brushing against hers. The grin he had on his face told her that it was deliberate… it made her shudder.

“So! How was it? It’s good, isn’t it?” Brian asked, following Johnny’s first bite on the apple.

Johnny bobbed his head. “It’s really good. The best one I’ve tasted so far.” Tifa was surprised with how genuinely impressed he sounded.

Delighted by the merchant’s compliment, Brian let out a hearty laughter. “I can’t wait to show you the rest of what we can offer!” 

The sun was glaring down from the bright blue sky when they continued their walk to visit other parts of their farms. They passed through a small pond where white lilies floated and frogs were either soaking themselves in silence or leaping from one spot to another. Abundant wild flowers shimmered radiantly under the morning light, painting the pathways into an array of colours beyond lush green grasses. At times, Tifa could hear the sound of Brian giving warnings about not touching wild bushes that may be poisonous. Somewhere close to their lemon trees, she heard the sound of a whimpering cat and found it hiding underneath a shrub. 

She paused and knelt down to give it a gentle pat, “Are you hungry?” From out of the pockets of her pinafore, she offered the little creature several pieces of niblets. 

As she watched it ate from her hands, she heard neither her father, mother nor the merchant nearby; there was only the sound of birds chirping on trees. She thought she was finally left alone, but the footsteps that she heard thumping against the ground towards her direction told her otherwise. She sighed and wished she had not chosen to come.

Johnny appeared, with hands inside his trouser pockets and a doltish grin plastered across his face. “So _this_ is what is keeping you behind.”

“I’m done now… I’ll start walking again soon,” she said mirthlessly, unbothered about feigning friendliness with this merchant she found most exasperating.

While she continued her walk, he trailed along right next to her. “The tour would be meaningless if you’re not around,” he professed rather impishly.

“With my father and mother around, you’ll be in good hands. You don’t really need me.”

He cackled, to her surprise. “That’s not what this is about.” He stooped down to peep at her face, and she had no choice but to look at him as he declared, “I’m looking forward to spend more time with you, Ms. Tifa.”

Her skin started crawling again.

***

Deep within the maze of zones teeming with tall trees, wild plants and animals at the Great Glacier, a wilderness north of Icicle Inn, a pristine river was coursing unswervingly towards the wider sea. Tifa was seated at a position somewhere along the riverbank, listening to the burbles of moving water and reading a piece of writing penned by Bugenhagen, an eminent scholar from Cosmo Canyon. In times when her heart is not at the right place, the scholar’s work would help keep it still. She heard the approaching footsteps of a pair of boots, until a presence settled beside her and greeted her with a kiss on top of her head. When she looked up, Aerith was smiling at her.

Aerith’s green eyes began scanning through the cover of her book. “Reading Bugenhagen again?”

“Yeah, this is the best place to read it after all,” she answered while folding the upper corner of a page to mark the last passage she had perused prior to ending her reading.

Aerith rose and moved to sit closer to the river, bringing with her a wooden pail full of her fishing tools and gears. Tifa followed closely the movements of her hands with her eyes as she tied a small piece of cheese as bait on the hook of her fishing tackle. Aerith was fixing the knots around her bait when she asked, “So… how did it go with the merchant Johnny?”

Thoughts on the merchant rekindled feelings of restlessness in Tifa again. “I think… I don’t like him,” she managed to mumble.

“You don’t like him?” Aerith repeated. The water made a low splashing sound as her fishing hook entered into the river. “Why? Has he done something bad?”

The agitation crawling in Tifa’s chest was simmering, waiting to be disgorged at the tip of her tongue, just like the geyser that would erupt out of a hollow pit every few minutes at a wasteland close to where the river was. “He-” she started, but when Aerith gave her a glance, she bit down her lip.

Tifa thought about Aerith’s dreams of bringing her family business to Midgar and how she always talked about making contacts with merchants from the city to help her cause. She was afraid of what Aerith would and _could_ do if she knew of Johnny’s behaviour around her. “You… know how they are,” so she said instead.

“It’s not like you to be judging someone based on trite observations, Tifa,” Aerith chided.

Tifa pushed some few strands of hair to the back of her ear and gulped. “Yeah… you’re right. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“AH! I think I caught one,” Aerith tussled with her fishing tackle until she succeeded in reeling up an average-sized sturgeon that was stuck on her hook, which she then tossed into another empty wooden pail. “I can’t wait to meet him. I bet he’ll be really helpful!”

The trace of buoyancy in Aerith’s voice crushed Tifa’s heart. Aerith had dealt with manifold disappointments over her previous attempts to form associations with Midgar’s merchants who came to their town, yet none of these unfortunate experiences were able to dim her spirits. It is this willpower of Aerith’s that drew most of Tifa’s affection for her in the first place, and which Tifa still find to be most striking about her.

Aerith was reeling up her fourth catch when Tifa called out to her, “Hey Aerith…” when Aerith glimpsed at her as a reaction, she avowed, “Whatever happens after this… know that I love you, and only you.”

Fishes that Aerith had caught were making noises in the wooden pail as they flailed around for air. The river continued to flow steadily down its intended course and the sound of geyser bursting to a considerable height above the ground at the wasteland was never ending. Time had stopped for them as they gazed into one another’s eyes in silence.

It only moved again when Aerith finally beamed, showing some rows of her teeth. “You’re being weird, Tifa. I love you and only you too.”

***

“Good evening, Ms. Tifa.”

The day was too dark outside to see when Johnny appeared at the front steps of Tifa’s home, draped in a lavish fur cloak. She was in a drowse when her father knocked on her bedroom door to tell her that the merchant had come to see her. A brief argument ensued between them as she insisted about not wanting to answer the door. Alas, as an authoritative figure, her father had the upper hand and she was made to do what was expected of her. Seeing the merchant’s smug face at the front door of her home had almost made her scrape him with her nails.

“Care to join me for a walk?” he asked, offering a hand. 

Tifa closed her eyes and expelled a gust of breath, relieving the fury building and seething in her. Without saying a word, she wrapped herself in a hooded brown cloak and walked out of her house, past the merchant, ignoring his offer entirely on purpose. As she marched forward, he quietly followed behind. They kept walking, passing through vast prairies where she used the sky that was devoid of stars but lightened by the full moon as a distraction.

At some point, Johnny voiced out, “Are you upset with me?”

“Of course I am,” she snapped, and gave him a glare as she screeched, “You woke me up and forced me out of my house, in the middle of the night!”

There was a grin maintained along the lines of his lips, to her irritation. He resumed his walk, overtaking her lead. “That’s unfortunate to know,” he uttered, looking up at the sky. “It’s not my intention to trouble you.”

“Well, the fact is you did.” Tifa had no interest of playing with words as she spoke.

He halted and Tifa was made to watch his back as he disclosed, “I’m incredibly interested in you, Ms. Tifa.” She heard him took in a hefty breath before picking up his words again, “This is the first time I’ve ever felt so intensely for someone and I have no intention of giving in.”

When he turned around, she let out an inaudible gasp. The smile from his eyes did not match the one he had on his mouth. There was a certain kind of sharpness from the gaze he used to hold her in. “I _will_ have you, Ms. Tifa.”

Somewhere distant, wolves were howling at the moon, escalating the nightly chitters of insects. Trees and bushes rustled, as a gust of wind blew across the town. Lanterns continued to flicker along the pathways in between prairies and the smell of smoke from chimneys drifted from nearby houses. A sense of dread was spreading all over Tifa’s body as her eyes peered into Johnny’s. Her knuckles grew white as her grip around her cloak tightened.

A void of darkness was swirling at the back of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I've turned Johnny into a completely different character than he actually is in canon LMAO. 
> 
> I think it's because I originally intended to write Don Corneo as the merchant but chose to write Johnny instead. So Johnny's personality molded into Corneo's, I guess!


	3. The Change In Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and the next few will be pretty heavy. My girls will be hurting. But it is all for building up towards their happiness.
> 
> I promise.

Perched on the wooden sill of an open window, a pair of round and small chickadees were sprightly tweeting, communing in a patois that their species share only with one another. Beyond the window and into a room that was brightly lit by the morning sun, jars of coagulated fruit jams were strewn across a long wooden table alongside loaves of bread served on clay plates. Seated on one side was the merchant Johnny, who was observing attentively as Aerith, the person seated in front of him was slicing a loaf into several pieces. The crunch of the bread’s crispy layers filled the room, only for it to stop when Aerith used a butter knife to spread a soft pink jam across a piece that she would eventually hand to Johnny.

Johnny took a bite, with an expression full of intrigue that shifted into one of blatant surprise once his taste buds started kicking. “So the rumours were true. Icicle Inn really does sell the best fruit jams!”

“Of course!” Aerith exclaimed, twinkling with pride. “Actually… not just the best fruit jams but also the best butter and marmalades,” she added with a wink.

Johnny chuckled, tickled by Aerith’s wit. “I’ve yet to be disappointed by what you’ve shown me, so I’ll trust your claims.” Then he rose and started running his eyes through the room’s interior. “Fascinating. I can’t wait to see the rest of the operations in your establishment.”

Aerith opened the door leading to the store kitchen and gestured with her hand as she told him, “Welcome to the kitchen, where most of the daily grinding occur!”

Aerith watched as the merchant entered into the kitchen, and followed when he ambled to take a closer look on the ongoing hive of activities at different stations – from the trio of cauldrons, to the large pestles and mortars, and to the fruit cutting, end produce mixing and jar assembling tables. He paused at a spot and cupped his chin, “Where do most of the fresh produce come from?”

“The local farmers,” she answered. “We don’t trade fresh produce with other towns or cities.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, “You don’t? Wouldn’t it be difficult for you sometimes?”

“Yes but… we’re just staying true to our principles,” she explained. “Plus, who knows our local farmers better than we do? We believe that only they can provide the best fresh produce.”

A smile was crafted on the merchant’s lips. “That’s nice to hear. We no longer have that kind of sentiment in our city. It’s just all business to us.” Crossing his arms against his chest, he glimpsed at her as he queried, “I suppose you’re also close to your key supplier, who I presume would be the Lockharts?”

“Yes… yes, we are,” a trace of hesitancy coated Aerith’s voice when she gave her reply. Midgar merchants she previously met and tried to form associations with had all attempted to secure the Lockharts as suppliers for their own businesses. They all failed only because the Lockharts were loyal to her family business. These unfortunate experiences had developed her propensity to notice potential trade risks.

Johnny gave her a grin. Aerith dreaded the words that would leave his mouth… but instead, the ones he spoke were not the ones she expected, “I heard you’re close with Ms. Tifa?”

She nodded her head. “Yes… we have dealings with each other almost every day.”

“She’s a difficult one, isn’t she?” he remarked, giggling after. “But that’s what I like about her.”

Her heart missed a beat over his last few words. She wanted so gravely to confirm that she mistook what he meant, “You-”

“Enough about me. I’m wasting your time. It would be best if you show me what else your establishment is offering,” the merchant seemed eager to end the subject he started, to Aerith’s disdain.

Casting her reluctance aside, she took him to another building located a few minutes of walk behind the Faremis Wholesale store, where a row of farmers carrying brass pails filled to the brim with milk was lining up to offer their produce in exchange for remunerations. Inside, the air was thick with humidity and the smell of soured milk. At one corner, a group of labourers were adding special grains into milk that would be stored in a different room to be fermented, while labourers holding long plungers at another corner were engrossed with churning butter inside huge barrels. Johnny was an observant audience, curious about the specifics of each task and Aerith had to elaborate whenever necessary.

Except… though her mouth was saying things in response to his questions, her mind continued to dwell on the words he had last spoken about Tifa. She walked without being fully aware of her surroundings, as though gripped by a nightmare that would not let her rouse.

She wanted to ask, over and over again, _what do you mean by what you just said?_ She was replaying the question in her head, like the turning wheels of a carriage.

“Ms. Aerith… Ms. Aerith? Ms. Aerith!”

It was the booming sound of Johnny’s voice calling her name that carried her back to where her body _actually_ was. “Oh… sorry. What is it, Mr. Johnny?”

“I’m really impressed with what you Faremises are doing so far,” he complimented, with a smile curving the corners of his lips. “I think I would like to introduce you to a friend in Midgar.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “You would?”

“Of course!” The merchant guffawed. “I think my friend would be incredibly interested in providing further investments _and_ introducing your products to Midgar.”

Aerith’s heart made a hop, eager to accept his offer before it would be withdrawn. But she remembered the words he said about Tifa… and a shadow was casted over her head.

Her mind dawdled to a question: _What’s in it for him?_

***

It was afternoon tea time for the Faremis household when Aerith returned after her tour with the merchant Johnny was over. She watched as her mother came out to their backyard garden, bringing with her a small clay pot of boiled peppermint tea that was then placed on the wooden garden table. Her father appeared soon after, serving a plate of sweetcakes as he was taking a seat. The prospect of locking herself in a room to be alone with her thoughts was tempting but she loathed troubling her parents. So she joined them, feigning composure by first greeting her father with a kiss on his cheek like she always does.

“Look who’s back,” Gast remarked with joy. “How did the tour go with Mr. Johnny?”

Scooping a few litres of tea out of the pot into one of the clay cups, she answered, “It was… good.” She took a sip and let the tea burned her tongue a little before putting the cup down. “He was really impressed.”

“That’s good!” Ifalna finally came, bringing a plate of sliced pears to sit outside with them. “Let’s invite him for lunch or dinner someday.”

Aerith was nibbling onto one of the sweetcakes when she decided to let them know, “He offered to introduce us to one of his friends in Midgar.” After another sip of her tea, she resumed, “And he also want to help sell our products to the people of Midgar.”

Ifalna gasped and tittered as she covered her mouth with her hands. “My my! We scored a really good merchant this time!”

“Indeed,” Gast chuckled, then sprinkled a spoonful of sugars into his tea. “He’s really doing his best to help the residents of this town.”

Ifalna was gulping her tea when she hummed her agreement. After setting aside her cup, she asked Aerith, “Have you heard of what else he had done?”

“…No, I haven’t.” Divided between wanting and _not_ wanting to hear more, Aerith’s stomach started to turn.

Ifalna took a slice of the pears and started munching. “He had asked for Tifa’s hand in marriage.”

Her guts constricted at her mother’s words, as though a demon was twisting and clawing at her insides. Her nails dug deep into her skin as she held her hands together. The ringing in her ears were growing louder. Her heart was drumming and her breath was beginning to fail her.

She wanted to scream, scream and scream so everyone could hear her fury.

“I think Brian wouldn’t have any objection. I heard Johnny offered to help develop their farms by buying some of the supplies for his juice business from them,” Aerith heard her father say.

 _Who cares about what that old man thinks? What matters is what Tifa thinks._ She almost mumbled her reply.

She watched as her mother scooped more tea out of the pot and into her cup. “Perhaps that’s why Tifa didn’t complain… or so I heard from Ena.”

“She… didn’t?” Her voice was breaking and her body started trembling violently.

Her mother did not gave an answer. Instead, her eyebrows creased with worry. “Aerith…what’s wrong?”

And then she stood up, slamming both of her palms onto the wooden table to the shock of her parents. Ignoring her mother’s calls, Aerith marched out of the garden.

***

Splashes of the amber hue of twilight coloured the rows of strawberry bushes on a plot of land belonging to the Lockhart Grange. Flocks of birds made a circle in the sky, before flying away to someplace else. Baskets carried at the back of the labourers working in the farm were filled with harvested strawberries. Men and women would nod their heads at one another if they crossed paths. Aerith was alone when she was sauntering on pathways in between the bushes. When her gaze fell on the strawberries, she thought of that time when Tifa had put one in her mouth… and her lips lightly touched the tip of Tifa’s finger. She yearned for those happier times.

She found a spot to sit, and sighed as the silence in the farm started overwhelming her senses again.

The day was growing darker when she heard a familiar voice yelling from a distance, “So you’re here!” She wanted to turn and look at the woman but the pain in her heart insisted for her not to.

It was not long after when she felt the woman’s arms around her and the kisses raining along her cheeks. “We’ve been looking all over for you. What’s the matter?” When the woman sat beside her, she could smell her zesty scent – a scent she loved to catch whenever she buried her face in the woman’s hair.

Tifa’s scent.

“What I heard… is it true?” She was all geared up for a confrontation and not one to stall around.

Tifa bent her legs forward before wrapping her arms around them. “About what?”

“Johnny asked you to marry him and you’ve accepted it. Is that true?” she probed, turning her head to look at Tifa with a scowl steeped with her wrath. When Tifa’s face shifted into one full of remorse, she asked again, almost pleading, “ _Why_?”

Tears began to pool around the corners of Tifa’s eyes. “I… had to, Aerith.”

“What do you mean you had to?!” Tifa’s words did not make sense to her. Tifa faced no difficulties turning down suitors in the past and was heedless about it affecting her relationship with her father. She could only thought of one and one reason alone that could give some rationality to Tifa’s decision. But she winced at the likelihood of listening to it come out of Tifa’s mouth. “Have you fallen for him?!”

“No!” Tifa protested. Tears began streaming down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hands. “I had no choice, Aerith. I just had no choice.”

 _There’s always a choice_ , she wanted to say.

As if the admission was not enough, Tifa was resolved to be as ruthless as she possibly could, “When he leaves for Midgar… I’m coming.”

“But Tifa… you said you never wanted to leave this town! Not even for Midgar!” Disbelief was cutting through the sound of her voice. Her heart was burning with rage and frustration; Tifa was becoming foreign in her eyes.

The sun had set. Several people could be seen walking on pathways in between prairies to light up the lanterns. Loud bellows could be heard coming from parents who were demanding their children playing in the prairies to return home. Inside humble abodes, occupants started crowding their kitchens to prepare for family dinners, leaving windows ajar to let out whiffs of food cooking in pots and pans.

Tifa was staring into her eyes without saying a word. 


	4. A Lover Who's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to bump the rating of the series because I believe, at some point, it will no longer be SFW lmao!

Parked outside the Faremis household was a four-wheeled wooden wagon drawn by a brown horse. A group of townsfolks loitered around to watch as several trunks were carried out of the house and placed into the wagon. Aerith came out soon after, draped in a dark brown cape and with both Gast and Ifalna by her sides. They began exchanging snug embraces and whispering to one another’s ears, until Aerith started sniffing and dabbing tears away from her wet cheeks. Once their hugs ended, Aerith moved to greet the crowd of townsfolks who came to bid her farewell.

Among them was Tifa, holding back her own tears. When Aerith finally stood in front of her, none of them said a word. Aerith quietly took Tifa’s hands into hers and tenderly ran her fingers onto Tifa’s skin, unconcerned about how her action would seem to the eyes of those around them.

“…Goodbye Tifa,” Aerith whispered, ending the silence between them. “We’ll see each other again when you arrive at Midgar.”

_To marry Johnny_. Tifa could almost hear her say the words that she left unspoken.

She felt Aerith releasing her hands but could not bear to look into her eyes. All she could do was listen to Aerith’s footsteps marching against the ground towards the wagon, followed by the cheers of goodbyes and sobbing from the rest of the townsfolks gathered near her. Only when the sound of turning wagon wheels and the beating of horse hooves were becoming hazier did she decided to lift her head up. Her heart ached as the wagon, along with Aerith’s figure were inching closer to the town’s exit, and gradually becoming undiscernible to her sights.

No longer could she see… the way Aerith’s brown hair would fly in the wind, or touch them in times when she had to help braid them. The thought gave her further agony, and there was only one place that would be a balm to her wounds: the river within the woods of the Great Glacier.

Heading towards her destination, traces of nature’s normalcy, like the beautiful shades of green from trees and plants that had grown with lushness around her, the fragrant smell drifting in the air from blooming flowers; the fluttering vivid butterflies and the sound of buzzing bees no longer held Tifa’s interest. Instead, her mind kept her in a place and time… somewhere back in the past, at an occasion that would ultimately seal her separation from Aerith.

***

It had been a week since the merchant Johnny arrived at the small town of Icicle Inn when he appeared by the front steps of the Lockhart’s household again, drenched by the evening rain. When he saw that it was Tifa who answered the door, a smile was crafted on his lips.

“May I join your family for dinner?” he asked, holding his hat against his chest.

She let him in, despite her dislike of his presence. Seeing the turn of events… she wished she had heeded her gut feeling and turned him away.

He was welcomed to their dining table, where she was forced to listen to him gave litany of praises about the well-cooked and seasoned meat and meticulously cut vegetables. She found his behaviour almost pathetic; it was flattering to her parents, but not her. The way he was trying a little too much to ingratiate himself with her family did not escape her notice. It was maddening to her, and also had casted, more often than not, some kind of fear in her that he would someday resort to doing something drastic and irreversible.

_I will have you_. The words of declaration he had made to her on that particular night remained at the back of her mind, sending chills into her bones whenever she was reminded of them.

There were children’s laughter coming from the next door neighbour when Johnny put down his dining utensils and stopped eating altogether, drawing all their attention to him.

“I… have something to say to you, Mr and Mrs. Lockhart,” he said, rather hesitantly.

Brian paused to chug a mouthful of water. “What is it, Mr. Johnny?”

When the merchant turned to glance at her, Tifa could already feel a pit growing in her stomach.

“I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” he did not falter when he made the intention of his visit clear.

In consternation, Tifa jumped up from her seat to object, “Mr. Johnny! Please, no!”

“TIFA!” It was not the first time she had heard her father roar, yet it still made her flinch. “Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Johnny but I would like to speak to my daughter… _alone_ ,” he had told Johnny, before motioning with his head for Tifa to follow him to the reading room.

When left alone with her father, she watched for some time as he paced around with hands on his hips in agitation. When his movements ceased, she heard him asked, “What is wrong with this man this time, Tifa?” Then he looked at her with rage reflecting from his eyes. “He is a _good_ man, Tifa. What else do you need from him?”

“I just… don’t want to marry him, father.”

Brian shook his head, almost with perplexity. “That is not a good enough excuse to refuse, Tifa!” Flinging his arms into the air, he bombarded her with more questions, “How long are you going to keep doing this? Do you know how many suitors you have turned down? When will this ever end, Tifa?”

She had no answer, for to offer an answer would be to reveal a deeply held secret that neither she nor the person she was involved with were ready to disclose. Her body started quaking and tears were beginning to blur her visions.

Brian took several steps closer to her before grabbing onto her hands. “Please Tifa… I’m begging you. Do this for us,” he pleaded as he peered into her eyes.

Her father’s behaviour was _frightening_ her. Often, after rejecting a suitor, she and her father would be locked in a screaming match, where neither of them would back down from asserting their stances. Her father would be too proud to beg for her to change her mind. To assume that Johnny had made a mark into her family’s lives, particularly her father’s was no longer an exaggeration; it was enough to dispel her father’s haughtiness.

Her mind soon wandered to Aerith – the sound of hope coursing through her voice as she spoke of meeting with Johnny and the things the merchant could grant to fulfil her dreams of thriving at Midgar…

Perhaps, accepting Johnny’s marriage proposal was the right thing to do after all. 

***

Water was burbling as the river ran through its usual route towards the sea. Night insects hidden within tree shrubs and bushes squeaked noisily, as though battling against one another over who could make the loudest sound. Owls perched at tree branches hooted to sing for the evening calm. Lying on her back at a spot somewhere on the river bank was Tifa, who was watching clouds floating away, illuminating a collection of twinkling stars in the night sky. Sitting on top of her chest was the book by Bugenhagen that she had read before Aerith came to fish. She wished the time would turn back so they would be together in the same place again, like they always would.

“So it’s true… this is your favourite hiding place,” resounding from afar was the voice belonging to the last person she wanted to see.

Sighing, she sat herself up. “How did you find out?”

“Your father told me,” Johnny answered as he settled down by her side. “So you like watching the sky… I learned two more things about you today.”

Tifa had none of the temperament to entertain his dallying. “Why are you here, Mr. Johnny?”

“I came to check up on you,” there was a sincere sense of concern mirrored by his words when he made his reply. “I know… Ms. Aerith’s departure must have been hard for you.”

It squandered some feelings of animosity that she had on him, but not enough to elicit honesty out of her. “I’m… quite frankly fine,” she lied. 

“It’s not my intention to send her away,” he said, shifting his gaze to the river. “I did it because I truly believe there’s an opportunity for the Faremises at Midgar.”

“I understand. You… don’t need to explain yourself.”

He chuckled, almost embarrassedly and started rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, I know I didn’t have to but… I feel like I should.” He gave her a glimpse and quickly removed his eyes away, as though avoiding her gaze. “I don’t want to be that person who’s taking your friend away from you.”

_You already are that person_ , she thought but did not vocalize.

“Hey Tifa…” she heard him calling her, dropping all formalities. When her eyes landed on him again, he professed, “I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Finding the intensity of his gaze disconcerting, she looked away. “You… have a lifetime to do it, anyway.”

“A lifetime, huh…” one of his hands soon found its way around her chin and caught her by surprise as it moved her head so she would face him again.

Before she could even comprehend what was happening, his lips were already pressing against hers. She tried a couple of times to move herself away, only to fail against his persistence as he held onto the back of her head. He released the hand he had around her chin and sneaked under her skirt. It started snaking up her thigh, aiming for the space between her legs.

_No… no… don’t touch me_.

Crippling nausea and terror began to grip her.

_Get your hands off of me_.

His touch left dirt marks on her skin that only she could see and feel. 

Flouting any possible consequences, she shoved him as aggressively as she could, sending him falling on his back a few steps away from her.

“HOW DARE YOU TOUCHED ME!” she screamed, filling the woods with the loud shrill of her voice. “DON’T YOU EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!”

Johnny sat with his body leaning backwards and hands secured on the ground, rendered speechless and gaping at her in bewilderment. 

Trembling and crying in panic, Tifa spun around and sprinted out of the woods without turning back.

***

Her feet had taken Tifa to someplace else she held so dearly: the field of pink, white and crimson cosmoses beside her family’s large cow and sheep farm. She had ran so far away that when she stopped, her heart was beating like it could fall out of a hole from her chest. Trembling as fatigue began to overtake her body, she found herself a spot to sit on. Her dress was drenched in sweat and her veil was falling off from her head, untidily spilling hair out to soar wildly in the wind. She watched as flowers in the field were swaying and was reminded of the kisses Aerith had given her during one of their many nightly rendezvouses.

The verity that Aerith was no longer by her side and she was all alone hit her once again. She started whimpering and heaving out sobs of grief and frustration without any constraints, thinking that no one was around to witness her breakdown.

But she was mistaken. There was one other person who lingered around after the closing hours of her family farm, like he always does. “Tifa…?” He was calling out to her, in the most forgiving of manner, as though he was afraid of causing her more hurt. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Cloud sat beside her, and as much as she wanted to hide her sadness from him, her tears would not stop running. “I… I miss her, Cloud. I really miss her,” she blurted, amidst wheezes of breath.

He exhaled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders before pulling her closer so she could lay her head onto his chest. “Why didn’t you stop her from going?”

“I couldn’t… It’s always been a dream of hers to come to Midgar.”

He began stroking some strands of her hair. “How can you say that, Tifa?” He moved his hand to make several light taps onto her upper arm – a gesture of comfort as he said, “You know she would choose you before all else.”

“I know…” her cry worsened. “I wanted her to stay with me… but… but it’s so selfish of me! So I had to let her go. I couldn’t be the person who’s going to stop her from reaching her dreams.”

He chuckled. “Didn’t she tell you that she would make it work somehow?”

Tifa looked up and saw the kind smile shaping the lines of his lips. He had overheard their conversation. A thought then crossed her mind, “Is that how it is… for you and Zack?”

One summer ago, a man working as one of the republican guards of Midgar’s ruling elite came to town looking for respite from the upheaval of his daily life. For some reason, the grouchy and a little cocky Cloud got the blithe and genial visitor all smitten. Though it took many days and labours on the visitor’s part to get Cloud to requite, their relationship found happier days. But their story did not end as a fairy tale, with the man forced to return to his duties at Midgar and Cloud having to wait for the time when they could finally reunite. But Tifa knew… their love was stronger than ever.

Cloud’s features started to redden. “I supposed… you can learn a thing or two from us.”

“I think… I will. _We_ will,” Tifa countered, smiling through her sobs that were dissipating.

“Do you want to see her?”

She bobbed her head profusely.

“Ok. I’ll give her address at Midgar to you but… you have to promise that you’ll tell her everything you’ve told me.”

The moon was shining brighter as midnight was approaching, causing stars to disappear from the sky. Cold wind began to blow throughout the town, prompting some residents to close off their windows. The cows and sheep at the farm had gone quiet, with most already deep in their slumbers. Along the pathways in between prairies, several townsfolks just came out of the woods in the Great Glacier, carrying heaps of firewood in their arms to burn their hearth. Tifa spent a few more hours healing the wounds of her heart with Cloud’s company.

She looked forward to a brighter day when she would see Aerith again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I truly believe Tifa and her father would have a tumultuous relationship if she had the chance to grow up with him around. She would still be a 'daddy's girl' but he may be too controlling for her to handle sometimes. Hence why I wrote him to be a handful here 😂
> 
> Also, I'm open to the idea of anyone expanding on Zakkura/Clack I have inserted in this AU! I think I have not enough understanding of their dynamics to write a good story for them (although I really think they're cute together!), so I'm passing the mantle to anyone who's interested.


	5. The Sun Has Risen Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses. Lots of kisses.

Swarms of night flies gathered around lights flickering from lamp posts that were lining up the cobblestone streets. The air was polluted by the scent of industrial smog produced by steam powered carriages and factories, and drainage clogged with waste. Rowdy laughter and music resounded from crowded taverns, the only commercial establishments that were open at the late hour. Groups of drunkards slurring in their speech wandered through the streets in an almost trance-like state. Aerith walked by them, pulling down the hood of her brown cloak to conceal her face. When one of them started jeering and remained persistently so despite her attempts to ignore him, she sprinted away as fast as she could until she found a poorly lit alley to hide in.

As luck would have it, none of the drunkards followed her. Leaning against a wall, Aerith let out a sigh of relief... only to grow cautious again when she felt several pairs of eyes watching her. Glimpsing at the rest of the alley, she found a line of another group of people, all dressed scantily and carrying the scent of gaudy perfumes that were meant to arouse. Upholding a feigned poise, she started walking by them, with the intention to leave at the other end of the alley. Avoiding any kind of interaction, Aerith returned none of their gazes and kept on going.

But one of them was not going to let her leave. “Hey, you there!” When it was palpable that she was not going to answer, the woman yelled again, “I’m speaking to you, young lady! Can you not hear me?”

“What?” It was a retort she made out of agitation.

The woman came out of the darkness and into the little amount of light permitted at the alley, revealing a beautiful figure belonging to a person who was as young as she was. The woman asked, with a playful grin, “Don’t you want to buy me tonight?” Aerith’s silence and look of astonishment invited further remark from the woman, “I know you’re into your own kind. I can see it.” 

The woman grabbed one of her hands and ran them onto the soft and supple exposed skin of a pair of hills nested at her chest and murmured, “There are more places like this that you can touch on me…”

Aerith gulped as her breath grew laborious and her cheeks started burning… the woman was an incredible beauty holding her captive with a pair of grey eyes that she had never seen before and it had been several days since she was deprived of the feel of someone else’s touch. She felt the woman tugging her hand, swaying her into taking a few steps forward to follow the woman.

But the face of a certain someone floated into her mind… and she halted. Aerith thought of her red eyes… her long black hair spilling out of her veil… the softness of her lips and the invigorating smell she always had on her after spending so many hours at her family’s fruit farms. With a sense of urgency, Aerith pulled her hand away and warned the woman, “Don’t you put your hands on me… ever again.”

Without giving the woman as much as another look, Aerith marched out of the alley and into the open streets. Walking back to her inn, she observed as drunkards danced and laughed with no care about their surroundings, and caught the nauseating odour of the city with her nose once again. The noises were beginning to blur… and so too were her visions of what was ahead. She could feel herself slowly fading into the background, like shadows that stretched along solid grounds but forgotten amidst a large horde.

The city had disillusioned her.

It felt like she did not belong there. The city thrived with successful tycoons but also greed and severe destitution that she had witnessed for the first time in her life. Lost in the city while searching for the merchant Johnny’s friend, Aerith decided to spend her nights finding for mouths to help feed, to a point where she had grown fed up with the inaction of the city’s own residents. The dryness and lack of vegetation in the city also had her yearning to see the vast green prairies and colourful flowers back at her hometown. The city was nothing but filth covered in the gold of success for a select few and she was exhausted of it all.

Often times, she found herself wondering why she even came to the city.

***

The carven word on a wooden signboard hung against the entrance door of Faremis Wholesale was an indicator to potential visitors that the store was open for business as usual. Aerith stood behind the front counter, servicing streams of them who came either as customers purchasing the jars of jams, butter and marmalade, or as suppliers dropping their fresh produce to be processed into end products. After what transpired for the past few weeks, her heart felt too heavy for her to give out a smile. Sometimes, she had to force one out of her and managed to do it with absence of sincerity. Most of the store’s loyal customers noticed her low spirit and each time they inquired, she had to spend a tiring amount of time to reassure them that nothing was wrong with her.

It was just an hour after she assumed her position at the counter when Myrna came out of the kitchen to oversee her performance. After the fourth customer left, Myrna commanded her, “Call Priscilla to take over your place. And you… meet me at the back of the kitchen after that.”

When she arrived at the backyard behind the kitchen, Myrna was puffing out billows of smoke from a long roll of paper filled with tobacco. “Do you want one?” she offered, to which Aerith declined.

“So… what is it that you want to talk about?”

Myrna lightly tapped the roll of paper onto one of her fingers to remove drops of ashes from the burning edge. “What was all of that?” she asked with firmness. “I’ve never seen you perform so poorly at work.”

“I’m just feeling out of it today,” Aerith snapped. Shame brought anger that she knew she had no right to wrongly direct to another person, much less someone like Myrna.

“You shouldn’t have come if you think your feelings will be interfering with work,” Myrna countered. It made Aerith wince but she expected it all along, for Myrna was not one to coddle anyone… except for perhaps, her husband and daughter.

Aerith sighed. “Fine… I’ll do better.”

“Hmm? Did I tell you to go back to work?” Myrna said, lifting an eyebrow and taking another smoke out of the roll of paper. “No way will I allow you to go back in there.”

Irritation laced the sound of Aerith’s voice when she questioned in return, “Then what do you want me to do now?”

“Talk to me,” Myrna replied while crushing the roll of paper against the top of a barrel. “Tell me about what is bothering you.”

Aerith did not welcome the idea, “Do I have to?”

“I’m not letting you back in there unless you start talking,” Myrna insisted. The moment she crossed her arms against her chest, Aerith knew she would not be persuaded to change her mind.

Holding her hands together behind her back, Aerith looked into the distance as she recounted, “I had a quarrel with my lover.”

“You mean… with Tifa?” Myrna corrected and when Aerith gave her a look, she added, “It’s not news to me. I’ve always known by the way you two look at and talk with each other.” As she leaned against the wall, she asserted for Aerith to continue, “So, what happened?”

Aerith started grating the front tip of her right boot against the ground. “Well… she accepted Mr. Johnny’s marriage proposal and I got mad.”

“Anything else that you want to tell me?” Myrna had her her head tilted a tad bit to the right, while holding Aerith with a gaze as she probed for more explanation.

Aerith expelled a gust of frustration. “Mr. Johnny… offered to let me meet one of his friends in Midgar to expand the family business and I… am unsure whether I want to leave this town or to remain here with her.”

“Why do you think Tifa accepted Mr. Johnny’s proposal?”

An extended period of silence ensued between them, enough for Aerith to mull over Myrna’s question that was left hanging in the air. The sun was glaring down onto the earth; insects were buzzing and birds were chirping to create sounds for the morning glory. Her eyes trailed a vividly coloured flying butterfly until it landed onto one of her shoulders. She thought of the tears that Tifa had shed when she confronted her about the marriage proposal… and Tifa saying something about not having any choice.

 _She did it… for me._ The realization made her tremble.

A male worker from the store hovered over one of the windows, asking for enlightenment about one of his tasks and Aerith heard Myrna answering. A banter was exchanged between the two before the man’s footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Myrna’s attention returned to Aerith, with an intention to break their silence, “So, are you just going to pretend like you don’t know the purpose of her actions and waste all her effort?”

Myrna moved closer as though to get a clearer view of Aerith’s face as she resumed her interrogation, “And as the heiress to your family business, is it wise to turn down Mr. Johnny’s offer?”

Aerith knew there was only one _right_ answer to Myrna’s questions, where all sides would win.

***

It was two hours past midnight when Aerith finally arrived in her room back at the inn, resolved to make the night be her last one in Midgar. The thought of spending another day at the godforsaken city was despicable. She would rather return to her hometown empty-handed, with an apology readied for both her parents and especially, Myrna who would be disappointed. Fumbling with the strings of her cloak, she heard several knocks made on her door. Sensing danger looming at the other side of the door, she stayed quiet with a hope that the knocks would subside. They did… only to continue after a short while.

“What is it?” she responded, guardedly.

No answer was given in return and it exasperated her. With no disposition to entertain any kinds of jests or criminal attempts at such a late hour, Aerith gathered enough of her courage to face what was waiting outside her room. In haste, she swung the door open.

What greeted her was no prankster or lawbreaker but a woman that had haunted her dreams since her arrival at Midgar. The woman’s red eyes held her pair of green with tenderness that clamped onto her chest and taking her breath away.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to see you so late in the evening,” Tifa muttered meekly. “And I don’t know how to tell you that it’s… me.”

Unconvinced that she was not dreaming, Aerith reached out to hold onto Tifa’s hands. When she could feel the warmth trapped in between the softness of their palms, there was nothing more that she wanted to do but to hold Tifa in her arms. She drew Tifa into the room, and once the door closed behind them, gave her a lingering kiss that almost made her cry.

Unwilling to be apart after the kiss ended, she rested her forehead against Tifa’s. They exchanged kisses again…until she moved to rain more kisses on Tifa’s cheek and neck; her lips, much like her heart, was aching to feel Tifa’s silken skin again. By the way Tifa yielded herself, Aerith knew she missed the feel of her kisses too.

It was not long before they started freeing one another from the constraints of their garments so they could stand facing each other in their barest forms. Tifa led her to the bed but was willing to let her mount. They kissed again, before Aerith found herself revering almost every part of Tifa’s countenance through the kisses she planted on Tifa’s forehead, eyelids, cheeks and chin.

Moans escaped out of Tifa’s mouth when her hands drifted to hold and caress Tifa’s round bosoms, and her lips running along the valley in between them. The heat that had settled around her loins brought out an impatience to feed some kind of hunger that had her possessed. So she stuck her tongue out and started flicking it around the outlines of Tifa’s wet opening nestled in between her thighs. 

Tifa writhed in pleasure, crumpling the bedsheet at areas where her hands were clutching. She moved one of her hands to hold onto Aerith’s head and every now and then, mumbled out directions about where to move her tongue. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her toes curled.

Aerith broke away and began inserting one… two… and then three fingers into Tifa, provoking more sighs and wails out of her. The faster Aerith moved, the louder she became until she was reduced into whimpers as her body shuddered with pleasure.

Aerith gave her some time to rest, before positioning herself so their coital clefts would lay against one another. Tifa gave her a glance, and she started grinding… unhurriedly at first and following the sound of their heavy breathing, sped up her rhythm. Lost in between their heat and the moisture leaking out of their crevices, Aerith paid no heed to the amount of time that had passed since then. All she could perceive was the smell of their lust in the air, the echo of their groans and the rattling of the bed.

The grip she had around Tifa’s thighs tightened and her back arched as she was nearing her peak. She toiled faster and caught a glimpse of Tifa’s closed eyes and parted mouth.

The muscles around her loins contracted, rocking her body uncontrollably. Her mind was blanketed in whiteness as she screamed out Tifa’s name. All her anger, sadness and frustration were released, and vaporized into the air… and the boulders that had weighted so heavily on her shoulders were lifted away.

***

The light from the moon infiltrated through the window, faintly brightening the room that had gone dark from unlit lamps. On the bed, Aerith and Tifa lied still, all drenched in sweat and their long hairs splayed across their pillows. Their eyes were fixed on the ceiling above them as they pondered in the privacies of their own minds about the night of passion they just had. 

“I… should have rejected Mr. Johnny,” Aerith heard Tifa saying. “I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

Tifa’s thoughtfulness in times when she was of no fault moved Aerith. “No, it’s alright. I should have understood why you did it.” Then she chuckled, “But Tifa… please don’t hide anything from me again.”

Tifa bobbed her head before inching closer to her. “I was scared, Aerith. Even if I want you to stay with me… I never want to keep you away from opportunities like this.”

“Don’t worry about me. I will manage somehow,” she said, reassuring Tifa with a kiss on her temple.

Tifa breathed out a deep exhale. “And I was afraid… that we would lose a chance with a merchant like Mr. Johnny and that I would hurt dad more than I ever did.”

“Let’s have a talk with our parents and Mr. Johnny once we get home. I think they deserve to know what’s going on between us.”

The furrow in Tifa’s eyebrows deepened with worry. “Are you sure… that it will be fine for us?”

“We have to tell them eventually, somehow.” Aerith has had enough of keeping their romance a secret. She wanted the whole world to know that her heart belonged to no one but Tifa. “We’ll be fine… as long as we have each other.”

A tranquil smile curved the corners of Tifa’s lips. “Okay. I trust you.” She stretched out a hand to move some of Aerith’s front bangs to the back of her ear as she asked, “What are you going to do now?”

“I actually wanted to go home,” Aerith admitted. “But since you’re already here… I might as well continue my search for this friend of Mr. Johnny.” With Tifa by her side, she felt like she could overcome any hurdle, even if it means getting used to the city she had grown tired of.

Tifa giggled, “Since when do you ever quit, Aerith?”

Aerith shrugged good-humouredly, making Tifa laughed again before suggesting, “I’ll help you then!”

The room was becoming increasingly cold and the lovers came to one another aid to ensure that they were both fully protected underneath the comfort of the quilt.

Locked in each other’s embrace, they fell into a quiet slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just not meant to write smut lmao


	6. Walking Heart of Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the others before it, and yet I still feel as though I've not included enough minor details that I would like to have in the story!

A huge brass bell was tolling from up a tall three-storeyed brick tower to mark the beginning of a normal day in the city of Midgar. Lining up the only pedestrian street of Precinct 1 were wooden stalls erected for residents with wares to sell. Hovering over a stall with tables displaying neatly arranged fresh vegetables and fruits was a woman donning a feathered hat and an opulent dress. She carried with her a woven basket in one hand, and the other hand was holding onto her little son. Her thundering voice mingled with that of the stall hawker as they were haggling over prices. Behind her stood a man listening to a hawker elaborating about the spiritual significance of the Mako crystals that he was offering for sale. Several distances away, the clamorous sound of a butcher yelling until her voice had gone raspy could be heard calling for potential customers to come and purchase the wide ranges of meat she had for sale.

Sheltered from the hustle and bustle of the pedestrian street was a residential area gated by lofty iron fences. Tifa and Aerith were standing before them, wide-eyed with astonishment for it was their first time seeing an affluent neighbourhood occupied with houses that were at least two-storeys tall and mansions built from marbles.

“This must be Precinct 5… this must be where she lives,” Aerith said, glancing at the small piece of note with an address written by Johnny that she was holding in her hand.

Tifa ran her eyes through the surroundings of the gated neighbourhood as far as she could see once again. “Yes, she must be. Wherever else could she be?” she remarked, convinced that a friend of a merchant like Johnny could live nowhere else but at the most wealthy of all areas. She soon noticed a pair of guards standing still by the fence doors, “Are we supposed to ask them to let us in?”

“I guess so,” Aerith shrugged.

Tifa approached one of them and started calling at him, “Hey Mister?” She made several further attempts to catch the guard’s attention but to no avail.

So Aerith stepped forward, waving and shouting, “Hellooooooooooo.”

They heard the guard clicked his tongue, before turning his head to glare at them, “What?”

“We would like to get in, please. We have someone we would like to see in there,” Aerith countered with a finger pointing into the gated neighbourhood.

The guard flashed them an inimical look and trailed their figures from the top of their heads to the bottom of their feet with his eyes. “Do you have passes to get in?”

“No… we don’t. We’re merely visitors, not residents,” Tifa replied, following an exchange of glance with Aerith.

A spiteful snicker started resounding from the guard. “There’s always people like you… sniffing at places where you don’t belong.”

“What did you say?” Aerith was becoming galled, Tifa could tell. And she had no interest to intervene, for she too was as galled as Aerith was.

Tightening his clutch around his musket, the guard threatened, “I suggest you ladies move away or… I might have to use this against you.”

“No, we will not!” Aerith insisted, stomping a foot down against the ground. “Not until you let us in!”

Aerith had worsened the guard’s tetchiness, noticeable from the bellow he made as he retorted, “And I’m telling you I’m not letting you in!”

They heeded too late when another guard approached, responding to the racket they were making. Tifa assumed he came from the nearby guardhouse. “What is going on here?” his tone of voice was severe as he demanded an answer from his associate. His dark hair sat atop his head with its prickly ends, like the thorns wedged behind the Hedgehog Pie monsters wandering around Midgar’s wastelands. 

Tifa knew who he was. “Zack!”

The guard who just arrived immediately gave Tifa a puzzled look. A couple of seconds passed until a jolly smile turned his lips upside – a sign that he remembered her too. “Tifa!” His joy extended to Aerith when he shifted his gaze to her, “Aerith! What are you girls doing here?”

“We’re here to meet someone,” Aerith rolled her eyes away from the guard she was bickering with and handing Zack the little piece of paper that she had.

What was written on it raised Zack’s eyebrows, “Oh… you’re going to meet Madam Elmyra Gainsborough.”

“That’s right!” Aerith cheered. Tifa saw her flashing a smug grin at the first guard and it made her giggle.

Zack was scratching the back of his head as he told them, “You’re at the wrong place…”

“We are?” His remark came as a surprise to Tifa. There was no place else more lavish in Midgar than the gated neighbourhood that the merchant Johnny’s friend could live at. The only other place would be Precinct 0 but only the ruling elites of Midgar were allowed to establish their homes there.

Zack nodded his head. “Yes. Not only does she live four precincts away from here but she also lives at the _nethermost_ section of Precinct 5.”

“ _Nethermost_ section?” Aerith sounded as confused as Tifa was. “But only the paupers of Midgar dwell at those areas.”

Zack corroborated Aerith’s claim, “That’s right.” He handed the little piece of paper back to her and suggested, “I… can take you girls there.” The hint of reluctance in his voice did not escape Tifa’s notice.

Zack took them on a ride in a steam-powered carriage, passing through roads that stretched onward as though they were endless. They passed through rows of brick-walled domiciles and buildings housing commercial establishments, selling all kinds of merchandises – apparels, fresh produce, alcohol, hygiene products, cosmetics and candies. The noises that they were hearing from outside were no longer the sound of nature they were so used to back at their hometown but turning carriage wheels, the yelling of people and the burbles of steams released out of metal pipes. Pedestrians dressed in extravagant garments walked by, carrying umbrellas and average-sized purses to their destinations. Tifa caught sight of two lovers exchanging kisses in an alley.

She moved her gaze towards Aerith and smiled when she saw the eagerness on her face.

***

The rows of luxurious buildings gradually disappeared and replaced with rows of buildings made of clay and hay roofs. The poisonous smell of industrial smog was overpowered by the stench of untreated sewage and decaying carcasses of monsters clearly consumed as food. Grimy children dressed in tattered garments ran around potholes clogged with several days old of greying water. They paused, fascinated by the carriage carrying Tifa, Aerith and Zack to their intended destination. When it passed by the only market in the area, the reek was strong enough to beckon the trio to cover their noses.

“For people living in the nethermost part of the city, leftover provisions from those above are their only source of food,” Zack elucidated while observing the crowds of people roaming towards dilapidated wooden stalls.

Tifa discerned the flies swarming around a range of blackened meat that were on sale at a stall. “So… they are buying and selling rotten produce?”

When Zack gestured to confirm her notion, she sighed and gave Aerith a glimpse. Aerith sat at her position quietly, attentively watching the residents of Midgar’s Precinct 5, Nethermost going about fulfilling their daily needs. She thought of Aerith, who had told her about wanting to leave the city, which was rather unusual for someone as obstinate as Aerith.

 _Perhaps this is one of the reasons why_ , she mused.

As they entered the northernmost area of Precinct 5, Nethermost, the ruinous scenery shifted to one that was most familiar to them – three large plots of land surrounded by water coming from a huge waterfall, all connected by a wooden stair and a wooden walkway, and two of which were rich with healthy foliage and vibrant flowers. Only one of them held a three-storeyed house made of bricks and roofed with red tiles. It was as though they had entered a whole different world from what they had seen in Midgar.

The carriage was a few steps away from the front of the house when Zack requested for their driver to halt, and then unbolted the door for Tifa, Aerith and him to step out. He made several knocks on the entrance door of the house until it was answered by a middle aged woman with a bun, who was garbed in a modest green dress with rolled up sleeves underneath a white apron. The indifference on her face turned into a grimace once she laid her eyes on him.

“Look who’s here… the Shinra lapdog,” there was such a grave hostility in the way the woman spoke that Tifa could almost swear that she was spitting at Zack.

Zack managed to maintain his composure as he adjusted his voice. “Madam Elmyra Gainsborough… I would like you to meet these ladies who… came all the way from Icicle Inn to meet you.”

“What do they want?” she shot him a question as her eyes landed on both Aerith and Tifa. “This is not another one of Shinra’s attempts to drag me back up there, is it?”

Zack refuted Elmyra’s suspicions, “No… it’s not. They are genuinely here to see you.” Turning to Aerith, he motioned at her to give more insight to Elmyra.

“We are here because… the merchant Johnny had asked me to see you,” Aerith said. From out of her pocket, she handed Elmyra a letter composed by Johnny that was addressed to her.

Elmyra accepted the letter and without delay, tore it open to start reading its contents. Tifa and her companions stood in silence as they watched her eyes moved with haste as she read line after line that were inscribed on the piece of paper, until she stopped to fold the letter back into its brown envelope.

“Well then, I’ll see to Johnny’s request later once I have the opportunity to do so. For now, I have some chores to take care of,” Elmyra told them as she shoved the letter into her pocket. Her attention returned to Zack, “So, are you going to leave or are you not going to? I believe your business here is over.”

Obliging to her demand, Zack bowed his head and started making his way to the carriage. Aerith and Tifa followed on, only to be interfered when Elmyra cried out, “Not you two! I need you girls over here.”

“Thank you, Zack,” Aerith managed to tell him before he could shut the carriage door close.

Tifa joined her side to add, “We will see you soon.” And with a smile, she took his mind to the one person he cherished the most, “Cloud is still waiting for you.”

Zack who seemed beaten by the interactions he had with Elmyra lit up at the mention of his lover’s name. As the carriage began to move, he stuck his head out of the uncovered window and uttered, “Tell him I promise that it will not be long till we’ll see each other again!”

The carriage drove away and they watched as distance turned it increasingly indistinct. 

It was Elmyra’s unrelenting command that bade their regard back to her, “Well, what are you girls waiting for? Let’s get to work.”

They trailed behind as she took with her a wooden cart full of gardening tools and propelled it towards one of the other two plots of land. Tifa surveyed through the grown vegetation with fascination; some were entirely unfamiliar to her, while others she had already seen cultivated at Aerith’s home backyard and that she knew contained medicinal properties. As she anticipated, Aerith seemed intrigued.

“So you produce and sell medicines?” Aerith was asking Elmyra. “My mother grew most of these plants.”

Elmyra was crouching down and inspecting the condition of her vegetation. “That’s partly correct. I supply materials to create medicines to those above, and make my own medicines for those here.” She started pulling out weeds that had grown intrusively around the plants when she told them, “As you all know… people living at the nethermost part of the city can’t afford their own medicines.”

“Then… why would you want to sell my family’s jars of jams, marmalades and butter?” Aerith queried as she squatted down beside Elmyra to help with the weeding.

Elmyra grunted over weeds that were tougher to remove. “For additional income, of course. Those above love some good spread for their breads,” she answered. Her tenor was much deferential when she went on to state further, “And it would be good for those around here too.” 

“The food you’re growing… it seems enough for not just you, but also those living around here,” Tifa noted. She had started lending her hand in removing weeds at a section growing sprigs of rosemary.

Elmyra was finished with weeding and had continued to harvest some bundles of ripe herbs. “That’s right… it’s so that none of us would need to eat rotten vegetables.” Glumness laced her voice when she continued, “But I can’t stop those who can’t help but want to eat meat, however rotten they may be.”

Several hours had passed, and they plucked, they harvested and they watered the plants wherever and whenever they had to. The sun was centring in the sky, a mark of midday’s arrival. Seeing Tifa dry the droplets of sweat along her neck with the sleeves of her clammy dress, Aerith lent her a handkerchief. Elmyra was standing a few feet away from her with hands on her hips and letting out a whistle of relief.

“Why did you choose to stay here?” Aerith probed. Tifa knew her bringing up a sudden question in random moments like so meant that it had been in her mind for a long time.

Elmyra chuckled, “It’s a long story.” She crossed her arms above her chest while smirking, “Which I may tell eventually… if you girls choose to stay and help around for a while.”

Tifa widened her eyes and Aerith gave a similar look of confusion. They had no plans to extend their stay at Midgar.

“Anyhow… you have no other choice but to stay. I already have a list of other merchants in mind for us to visit that can help in the popularizing and selling of your wares,” Elmyra asserted, spontaneously deranging their plans. “And it will take several weeks, or even months.”

“Then… I guess we really have no other choice,” Tifa concurred.

Aerith gave a shrug, voicing no objections either.

***

Sitting on a wooden bench outside a confectionery store, Tifa bent down to tie the laces of her brown leather boots. From the streets, she could hear members of a theatrical troupe approaching passersby and publicizing a play that they will be performing in a few days’ time; an owner of a tavern instructing the delivery persons on where to place the barrels of ales; the public crowding around a street performer and cheering for him, and a mother chastising a group of children running around the public square. When she finally lifted herself up, she spotted a man carrying a row of books up a flight of stairs towards a bookstore. The moment the person behind him lost her balance and dropped her set of books, the man broke his composure and began yelling expletives. Tifa scowled and shook her head disapprovingly. 

From inside the confectionery store, she could hear laughter coming from Elmyra, Aerith and the owner. It made her smile, knowing that the meeting was a success. Aerith had scored another merchant to help trade her family’s wares in Midgar.

It had been two months since they had decided to stay with Elmyra and assisting her with her day-to-day chores and errands, while also working on meeting with other merchants to secure more hands that would expand Aerith’s family business. Tifa often tagged along to offer the perspective on how only the best fresh produce were used in creating Faremis Wholesale’s end products.

The store’s entrance door swung open and out came Aerith who flashed her a wide beam. Tifa giggled, ecstatic for her, “Congratulations! You did it again!”

“No… _we_ did it,” Aerith emphasized and planted a kiss onto her head.

They were soon joined by Elmyra who gave them a note that would remind them that the day was still long for them, “Here’s a list of things for you girls to do today. Don’t miss any!” She waved them goodbye and left to attend to her other entrepreneurial commitments.

Tifa skimmed through the list: _chamomile balm for little Dante, feverfew leaves for Madam Gia, goldenseal roots for Alec, dry basil leaves for the Irvines_ , and the list went on… inducing a sigh out of her.

Aerith chuckled, “Another long list?”

“As usual,” she replied, leading their way back to Precinct 5, Nethermost.

Their day-to-day errands while living with Elmyra were to assist the residents of Precinct 5, Nethermost whenever necessary. They supplied food, water, medicines and any other provisions that the residents could not get a hold on due to their limited financial capacities. The lists were always long, and some were never satisfied and more demanding than others, but Tifa and Aerith would still accommodate them as best as they could. These tasks had heightened Tifa’s respect for Elmyra, who she knew would do them all alone before Aerith’s and her arrival.

The sun was already down by the time they were finished with their errands. The scenery around Elmyra’s home was always a welcoming sight to Tifa. The smell of fresh flowers and earth drifted in the air, carried by the gentle breeze. Under the minor light from the moon, the waterfall gleamed and the calming sounds of splashing water remained. Fireflies wandered around, filling the area with beautiful blinking lights. Tifa made a stop at the plot of land that was much elevated than the rest just to get the best view of the entire area.

As she gazed at the scenery in front of her, Aerith stood behind, raining tender kisses on the nape of her neck. 

“I… am surer than ever now that what’s best is for us to stay together,” Tifa said, holding onto Aerith’s arms that were enclosed around her. 

She watched as a swarm of fireflies began circling them. Aerith chimed in, “I think so too. These past few months were probably the greatest time I’ve ever had in my life.”

Tifa felt the same way; she could die and live again for an infinite amount of times, and she would still choose Aerith as her life companion. “The same goes for me,” Tifa remarked, tracing the tips of her fingers around Aerith’s hands. “I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else but you.”

“Let’s go home, Tifa,” Aerith proposed and it did not astound her. Although their stint in Midgar was pleasant, the time had come for them to end the fleeting retreat to return to the unfinished trouble that they left behind at their hometown.

And so she nodded. “I agree. It’s about time.” Then she spun around to tug Aerith’s hand, “Let’s make dinner for our final night here with Elmyra.”

They went into Elmyra’s home and toiled in the kitchen to make a feast for the woman who had helped them navigate through life at Midgar. The clock was ticking incessantly, while the dinner table had, little by little, became packed with numerous dishes: a plate of roasted chicken glazed in honey, sea bass seasoned with herbs that was served on a bed of lentils, bake potatoes stuffed with crispy kales and soup made out of pumpkins harvested from Elmyra’s garden. Once the preparations were completed, Tifa settled at the dining table with Aerith to wait for Elmyra’s return.

The sumptuousness of the dinner servings had Elmyra who returned home eventually, flabbergasted, “What’s gotten into you girls?”

Aerith laughed, “Please, take a seat, Elmyra!”

They began having their meals… and Aerith waited for some time to appropriately announce to Elmyra of Tifa’s and her intents, “We’re… leaving tomorrow.”

“I knew you girls are up to something,” Elmyra responded with a smile crafted on her lips. “And I don’t plan to stop you.”

Tifa reached out to touch Elmyra’s hand, “Thank you for having us and taking care of us, Elmyra.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Elmyra countered, holding onto Tifa’s hand in return.

Aerith began scooping the pumpkin soup into smaller ceramic bowls and passing them to Tifa and Elmyra. “You haven’t told us why you stayed here,” she said, reminding Elmyra of one of the first few questions she had asked when they first met.

“Oh, you have a good memory!” Elmyra was impressed. “This is my late husband’s house that was passed down to him by his parents,” she started explaining. She slurped a spoonful of the soup and resumed, “I never wanted to return until…”

Her demeanour changed. It was perceptible that she was struggling with the subject of their conversation. Tifa wanted to tell her not to push herself but she carried on, “Until my husband was deployed to Wutai for another one of Shinra’s destructive wars and never came back.” Elmyra took a deep breath, so as to finish her sentence, “Since then I’ve decided to live here in memory of my husband…”

She shifted her gaze first to Aerith, and then Tifa before saying again, “But… aside from that, living here has fulfilled me in many ways. I wish I could have done it sooner.” She took a bite out of her sea bass and chuckled, “Deciding to move and stay here… I never regret it – not even once.”

That night etched into Tifa’s memories like words printed in black ink on a piece of paper by the typewriter she had seen in the library of Midgar’s Precinct 6. The sound of ceramic spoons clanking against plates and bowls echoed in the room, while owls were hooting outside. Healthy bundles of red, yellow and white flowers sat in three different vases on top of a book cabinet, like they always did. Photographs huddled on a wall, which served as records for the house’s long history, briefly captured her interest.

But most of all, Elmyra’s conviction in her choices resonated within Tifa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted a backstory for Elmyra, or really, every other parents of FF characters (not just FFVII's!), even if it's just super small details
> 
> On a side note, writing Elmyra as the tough woman that she is has been incredibly fun!


	7. Speak Nothing but the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated with myself whether this should be the final chapter or not. But after a while I realized the chapter would be too long if it ends here.
> 
> So this is where I'll be 'tying loose ends' instead!

Obscured behind a foliage of beets, kales and burgundy lettuces, a grasshopper was resting on an eggplant leaf in its quest to begin its feeding. Nearby, shrubs of white meadowsweets, saffron yellow forsythias and pink hydrangeas bloomed with lushness in rectangular clay pots, vividly colouring one section, among others, of a small garden located behind a cabin belonging to the Faremises. A maple tree stood majestically by the entry gateway with a wooden swing hanging from one of its sturdy branches. There was a degree of admiration expressed by those who went past the area, dazzled by the garden’s beautiful landscape.

Ifalna was crouching close to a pot of peppermints, snipping a few of its leaves for her to collect. The leaves were then taken into the cabin and towards the kitchen, where they would be soaked inside a regular size clay pot that was full of water at the hearth. She left the water to boil and joined her husband, Gast at the dining table.

Gast was quietly nibbling on a slice of peach. Once or twice, he would adjust the position of his round glasses on the bridge of his nose when they slid downwards further than to his liking. The sweet and cooling fragrant of peppermint had begun to settle in the air around the room. Ifalna laid both of her arms against the table and fixed her sights to two other presence across her – Aerith and Tifa. .

“So… what is it that you girls want to talk about?” she started, tentatively. Her right thumb was circling a spot on top of her left hand.

Looks of apprehension dulled the young faces of the lovers as though they were lost at sea, never to see the sun again for the rest of their lives. Hidden underneath the table were their hands, holding firmly onto one another.

“I… want to marry Tifa,” Aerith disclosed with conviction soaring within her. For her, there was no more turning back.

Ifalna’s viridescent eyes broadened with surprise. “And what of Mr. Johnny?” she asked, shifting her gaze to Tifa.

“I no longer want to marry him,” Tifa admitted with downcast eyes. The thought of hurting Johnny was undoubtedly giving her no pleasure. “But I will speak to him… of our intentions.”

Ifalna let out a heavy exhale before exchanging glances with Gast who gave her a shrug. Her heed returned to the boiling peppermint water that was waiting to be attended to. She covered the handle of the clay pot with a rag and carried it to serve onto the dining table. Aerith assisted her with arranging clay cups and saucepans for them to use.

Ifalna was filling a cup for Gast when he said, “I have no objection.” A smile formed the lines of his lips when he continued, “You do what is best for you, daughter… and you, Tifa.”

The lovers let out brief chuckles of relief. A moment of silence followed, where they had to watch Ifalna pour the peppermint water into the rest of their cups. She passed them a jar of sugar and a pitcher of sweetened milk and headed back to her seat beside Gast.

“I have grown fond of Mr. Johnny. In a way, he is different from the other merchants from Midgar that we had met,” Ifalna remarked, sprinkling several spoonful of sugar into her drink. Then she granted the lovers a smile that was as tender as one that often belongs to a mother who is comforting her children, “But I’m not going to let that get in the way of your happiness.”

Aerith bit the bottom of her lip as a wide grin was plastered on her face, thrilled by the approval of her parents. She turned to look at Tifa until they descended into a moment of joyful laughter.

“Though there is one… problem that you girls have to deal with,” Ifalna warned. She was sipping on her drink when Aerith and Tifa diverted their attention back to her.

Tifa bobbed her head; she knew who Ifalna was referring to. “Yes… I’ll be speaking to my mother and father about this too.”

***

At the northern far end of the Great Glacier, the wilderness beyond Icicle Inn, a cabin made entirely of wood was a welcoming sight within the frozen white tundra. It stood erect with promises of warmth and food for visitors in need of shelter. Pots of blue scillas and lilac crocuses lined the corners of the side porch, livening an otherwise dull and dry scenery. Flickering lanterns hanging from the walls gave signs of life from within the cabin. Aerith was inside, seated at the dining table with Holzoff, the owner of the cabin, drinking mugs of roasted cocoa beans harvested and supplied from the southern foothill town of Gongaga.

They drank in silence, watching a scene playing out on a cliff not far from the cabin. Tifa had approached her father, Brian who was there to feast his eyes on the entire landscape of the Great Glacier from a vantage point. Her mouth started moving to let out a speech, which Aerith assumed to be an account about the recent turn of events. Brian did not flinch; his eyes were set on the vastness ahead of him.

When Tifa knelt down to get closer to Brian, Holzoff’s slurping became louder as though to indicate a growing sense of uneasiness that Aerith was feeling too. Brian finally spun around to look at his daughter but there was no smile. There was just a glare and a mouth that opened and closed to speak of words that were not discernible to anyone away from the cliff but loud enough for people to know that he was yelling.

Then he stood and marched away. Aerith could hear Tifa shouting his name and saw her cry when Brian kept on walking without turning back. Aerith swiftly put her mug down onto the table and ran out of the cabin to be by her lover’s side.

She knelt down beside Tifa and laid a placating hand onto her shoulder. “Hey… it’s alright. We can try again next time.”

With her arm, Aerith supported the sobbing Tifa so she could rise before bringing her along to return to the cabin. A mug of the roasted cocoa bean was already waiting for Tifa at the dining table. Holzoff was by the kitchen, preparing dinner for his guests. The trio remained quiet for some time, enabling Tifa to pull herself together.

“That hard-headed father of yours will be roaming around Gaia’s Cliff without any concern for his safety in his anger,” Holzoff remarked with vexation. He glanced at Tifa and sighed, “Good thing your mother knows of his ways. She’ll be here tonight, I’m sure.”

***

Pots and pans were clanging in the next two hours as Holzoff laboured in the kitchen all by himself, refusing to accept offers of help from either Aerith or Tifa. By the time he finished, it was pitch black and quiet outside, except for the whistling of gusts. He was laying down stacks of plates and bowls from the kitchen cabinets on the dining table when they all heard several knocks being made on the entrance door.

“That must be Ena,” he guessed, prior to answering the door.

His presumption turned out to be accurate. Ena came, clad in a red cape to fend herself off from the cold of the night. The sight of Aerith and Tifa at the dining table did not seem to surprise her; word about their return must have already spread throughout the town.

“I knew you girls will be up here too,” Ena said, removing her cape and folding it on top of her right arm.

Holzoff went back into the kitchen and delved into the contents of the cabinet again for an extra dinnerware set to accommodate his newly arrived guest. “Juice? Coffee? Water?” he queried.

“Just water, please,” Ena, already seated at the dining table had answered.

From up close, her mellowness remained recognizable through her gaze – a trait that seemed to be inherited by Tifa. But something else did not fail to capture Aerith’s attention: lines of worry and exhaustion framed her once serene face. Ena appeared to have aged faster throughout the time that they were gone than all the years she had been through combined. The thought brought feelings of guilt to Aerith.

Ena reached out to clasp Tifa’s hands into hers. “You don’t look so good, daughter…” she fretted.

“Things… didn’t go well with father,” Tifa said, refusing to look at her mother.

Ena blew out a heavy breath and shut her eyes. “I wish you could have gone to me first…”

“But father wouldn’t like that,” Tifa countered defensively, evidently upset at being told that she had missed the opportunity to mitigate the severity of the situation.

Ena reopened her eyes and drew in some breath, gathering enough energy from her surroundings to overcome anything that was coming for her. “I believe… you girls have something to tell me.”

Ena went ahead to set her eyes onto Aerith like arrows striking a target board. Aerith gulped, slightly daunted by the intensity of the charged atmosphere they were engulfed in.

Yet, Aerith repudiated the thought of backing down. 

“I’m going to marry Tifa,” she proclaimed, never faltering. “And I’m going to live with her from then on.”

Ena shifted her concern back to Tifa. “Is that what you want too, daughter?”

“Yes,” Tifa nodded, equally unshakable. “I don’t want anyone but Aerith with me.”

Ena withdrew her arms, only to cross them against her chest. Stillness ensued at the dining table as she was pondering in her own thoughts, while the lovers waited tensely for her response.

“I would be lying if I say I’m entirely happy for you,” Ena eventually admitted, ending the deafening hush. “It’s all too sudden for me.”

Tifa sighed. The tremble in her voice hinted her frustration. “Mother… is my love for her not enough for you to understand?” She scowled at Ena, “Why are you both making things so difficult for us?”

“I don’t have any plans to stop you,” Ena rectified, shaking her head. “All I’m saying is… it will take some time for me to understand what is going on.”

Ena’s words did nothing to Tifa’s chagrin. Aerith could tell that she wanted to protest. So she laid a hand onto Tifa’s arm to stop her. Consternation contorted Tifa’s face but she pressed on, gesturing at Tifa to recall her composure.

“That will be… good enough,” Aerith said truthfully. Though she had hope that Ena would be a lot happier for them than Brian ever could, she understood where Ena’s reservations were coming from.

Ena had no return of words and they were left once again with another lasting moment of silence. Holzoff appeared at the table, seemingly thinking that it was a suitable time to intrude. He began unfastening the lids on the pots and pans he had served, revealing a menu of roasted beans, buttered squid and peppered fish. Without waiting for instructions from his guests, he carried on to allot fair portions of the food to each of their plates. Once he settled down with them, his guests decided to start having their dinner too.

Ena, who was cutting her squid, offered her advice, “I think you girls owe Mr. Johnny some explanation.”

“That we will do soon enough,” Tifa replied, chewing on her beans.

Aerith scooped another small portion of fish onto her plate. “Where would he be now?”

“He’s still staying at the Strife Inn to wait for you Tifa,” Holzoff chipped in. He gobbled a spoonful of his food before adding, “He said something about asking for forgiveness.”

Aerith paused with her fork in the air, “Forgiveness?” She frowned at Tifa and probed, “Why? What had he done to you?”

“It’s a long story…” Hesitancy crept into Tifa’s voice when she mumbled her answer.

Tifa’s response disconcerted Aerith, worsened by her memories of the way the merchant Johnny was fawning over Tifa. She guzzled a mug of her juice, and slammed it down onto the table as she asserted, “And it will be one for you to tell me on our way to the inn soon.”

Ena was finished with her meal and decently arranged her fork and spoon at a spot on the plate, a practice that was almost ceremonious. “Don’t be troubled by your father. I’ll deal with him,” she assured Tifa. Her gaze only moved away after Tifa motioned her comprehension through a nod of the head.

The ticking of time continued and the night was growing colder at each passing minute. The moon was glowing bright outside in the sky, dimming the twinkling of stars. Feline creatures were meowing aggressively for help to be freed from the outdoor freeze. The sound of helplessness from these creatures must have arose something within Ena who quickly dismissed herself in a bid to find for her husband.

***

Within the only residential area of Icicle Inn stood a one-storey wooden house, wider than the rest of the houses in the street to accommodate six bedrooms and three privies. Outside, a signboard was attached on the wall, spelling the words ‘Strife Inn’. At the far back of the house was the dining area, a small greenhouse decorated with barrels of foliage in between wooden sets of tables and chairs. On one of the tables, candles in a candelabrum were alight, illuminating the red colour of the wine inside a nearby clay cup. Sitting by the table was Johnny, in his bare-chested, long and silky sleepwear, and with his legs folded.

Nearby, Aerith stood with a grimace on her face and the posture of a cantankerous person – arms crossed on her chest and one leg forward. “You shouldn’t have touched her,” she hissed. She shifted the weight of her body to the leg that remained behind. “Actually, no. You shouldn’t have pestered her since the beginning!”

Johnny sniggered, “Fine… fine… I was wrong.” He whirled his head to fix his gaze onto Aerith, “Who would have thought that _you_ are my rival for Ms. Tifa’s affections, Ms. Aerith.”

While her frowning persisted, Johnny’s lips were curved in a contrived smile. As more time passed, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. Only feelings of resentment remained, visible only through the faint twitch of his mouth.

He rose to his feet, towering above Aerith. His walnut brown eyes slightly narrowed into a cold and menacing glower. “If I knew from the beginning… I would have sent you further away from Midgar,” he murmured begrudgingly.

Tifa who had stayed quiet marched forward, ready to defend Aerith.

His gaze fell onto Tifa... and in a rapid change of events, the language of aggression faded from his bearing. “But Ms. Tifa clearly loves you… so I probably wouldn’t have done it anyway,” he said, backing away.

Ruefulness soon shadowed the features of his face as he offered his apology to Tifa, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done all of that to you.”

“All… is forgiven,” Tifa said, as Aerith expected. She is always quick to forgive.

He went to be seated again and started having another few rounds of wine out of his cup. “And don’t worry…” he remarked, briefly pausing his drinking. “I’m still a businessman. The Lockhart Grange will still be my partner and I won’t stop Faremis Wholesale from operating in Midgar.” Then he laughed, entertained by a thought that had traversed his mind. “I don’t think Elmyra would let me either.”

Aerith waited until he had emptied his cup. “Thank you, Mr. Johnny,” she told him. But her feelings of gratitude would never dispel the ire that she would continue to feel about him. And so she professed to him, “But unfortunately, I’m not so quick to forgive. I’ll remember what you’d done.”

“You do what you need to do, Ms. Aerith,” Johnny shrugged.

He was tilting his seat backwards when he asked, “So I heard… both of you are to be married?” His droopy eyes and reddening cheeks were telling signs that he was becoming tipsy.

“Yes…” Tifa decided to reply. “Please… do come.”

Aerith wanted to object but it took only one look at Tifa to assuage her.

The invitation was done out of mere courtesy. And Johnny’s silence was enough to tell her that he understood.

“If my schedule permits… then perhaps, I will,” he finally said, smiling flatly. 

A pendulum clock standing at a corner began to ring, marking the start of midnight. Aerith exchanged a few nods with Tifa before agreeing to tell Johnny that it was time for them to excuse themselves.

They were on their way out when Johnny yelled a request, “Please ask Mrs. Strife to bring more wine.” Then he was swivelling the wine jug in his hand, “Apparently this one’s already empty.”

***

“You’re feeling sorry for Mr. Johnny.”

Lights from the residential houses had all been dimmed, except for ones that were coming from the Strife Inn’s reception area. Aerith was hovering by the entrance door to the Lockharts’ home with Tifa… but the latter was quiet, with her gaze remaining on the inn for far longer than necessary. Tifa had not shared her thoughts about their encounter with Johnny but Aerith knew that it was bothering her. And the only way to get Tifa talking was to speak of the first thing that came across her mind.

Tifa folded her arms behind her back and started digging a spot on the ground with the tip of her boot. “I can’t help it…”

“Hey… it’s okay.” Aerith reached out to hold and caress a side of Tifa’s face, crafting a delicate smile onto her lips. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. Mr. Johnny isn’t blaming you either.”

She pulled down her hand and started tiptoeing away. “Besides! It’s his fault for being pushy!” The thought of that man’s hand running on Tifa’s skin never cease to infuriate her. “He was dumb to think that he had a chance with you in the first place,” she muttered under her breath.

“You’re never going to stop being mad about it, aren’t you?” Tifa giggled.

Aerith pouted, “Of course I won’t!” She snapped her head around to show the deep furrow in her eyebrows. “How dare him!”

Tifa laughed again. When she stopped, she lifted her head up to stare at the sky, to which Aerith followed suit. The sky was crowded with stars, blinking in dots like freckles on a person’s face.

“The night when we had our first kiss… the sky was like this,” Tifa said, her voice trembling. “It’s been three years since then.”

Aerith grabbed onto one of Tifa’s hands, bringing Tifa’s gaze down to her. “And we’re going to be wedded soon.”

Under what little light they had, Aerith saw the way Tifa’s eyes gleamed with tears.

Her own eyes started watering.


	8. Binding of Hearts and Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is finally coming to an end. Thank you for reading! It's been such a pleasure writing this alternate universe where Tifa and Aerith could happily live together in such a calming and scenic setting.

Within a certain chamber, clouds of steam drifted from masses of warm water that were filling two brown bathtubs. Pink petals floating along the water left the aromatic trails of jasmine in the air. Close by, women in white dresses were kneeling on the hard floor, stirring wooden basins full of oil that was blended with the white petals of chamomiles and powders of grinded almonds. Through the open windows, endless music could be heard from outside as a band of musicians merrily play drums, rebecs, panpipes, flutes and chalumeau.

Back inside the chamber, before long rectangular mirrors, stood Aerith and Tifa who were staring at their reflections as those around them undid their garments and untied their hair. Guided by the rough hands of elderly women, they walked in their barest forms until it was time to climb into the tubs and bathe themselves with the warm waters.

Multiple hands began working on them: some were scrubbing their flesh with brushes, while others were rubbing oil into their hair that would eventually be smoothened with small combs. When commanded to dip their faces into the water, they did as they were told.

An urge to look at her beloved overcame Tifa and so she turned her head, only to be met with a cloth partition that was denying her wishes. Yet, she smiled with delight, for Aerith’s silhouette was enough to tell her that her beloved was looking at her too.

Once they were out of water, more hands patted them dry with linen cloths. Two young girls appeared, bringing with them elaborate white gowns. As a group of women were helping her put on the gown, Tifa heard the entrance door unlocked, allowing a figure to saunter into the chamber towards the area where Aerith was. The figure began speaking and she knew instantly that it was Ifalna.

Ifalna soon came to her with a fond smile on her face. In her hands was a fabric made of silk that was dark purple in colour. “This is a family heirloom,” she was telling Tifa while tying the fabric around Tifa’s waist. “I’m now passing two of what I have to both you and Aerith.”

Ifalna paused to ensure that the fabric was properly secured at where it was meant to be, before reaching her hand out to gently touch Tifa on her cheek. “May your days with my daughter be filled with everlasting love and joy.”

Her words overwhelmed Tifa with feelings of honour and bliss. “Thank you, Ifalna.”

The older woman then made her departure, allowing those around Tifa to finish preparing her.

Outside, sitting by the entrance door of the chamber were elderly men making final twists and turns on crowns created with vines, white lilies and purple violets. Lining up at both sides of an aisle made of a bed of flowers were the townsfolks, all dressed in garments fit for the occasion. The moment Tifa and Aerith stepped out, the elderly men rose to lay down the crowns on top of their heads.

The lovers took one look at each other… and once they were in readiness, they started walking along the aisle side-by-side. Potpourris were raining on them, thrown from woven baskets carried by guests. At the end of the aisle, a middle-aged man dressed in a customary garb similar to that of Ifalna’s was waiting underneath an arch made of thin tree barks. Torches erected at both sides of the arch were lit up when the lovers finally reached their intended destination.

Familiar with the flow of the ceremony, Tifa extended her arm, followed by Aerith who put the back of her left wrist against Tifa’s front right wrist. The middle-aged man moved forward, then began wrapping a vellum written with sacred texts around the lovers’ crossed wrists.

The man started his speech as he held onto the vellum, “We are all gathered here today to witness the binding of hearts and souls between two daughters of Minerva, and the children of the Planet.” When he raised his head to trail his eyes at the guests, he told them, “If anyone has any objection to this union, now is the time to speak of your grievances.”

His words were followed by silence, and so he turned his gaze towards the lovers, “And if any of you has any intention to discontinue this, I’m also allowing you to air them to me now.”

Neither Tifa nor Aerith spoke; they only had twinkles that remained on their lips, rendering the man equally elated. “Very well then… the ceremony shall continue.”

Holding on to the vellum, the man resumed the rest of his speech, “As the herald of our Planet, and the goddess Minerva… I hereby bind the hearts and souls of these women to eternity. Nothing shall set them apart, even when they have returned to the Promised Land.”

He drew his hands away to smear them with a blue chalk made out of crushed Mako crystals that were carried inside a small clay basin by a young boy. With his thumb, he stained the centre of both Tifa and Aerith’s foreheads with the chalk. The guests erupted into a series of robust cheer, celebrating the successful union between the lovers.

Aerith’s sudden grab of her hand caught Tifa by surprise. When she spun her head around to look at Aerith, she found Aerith already giggling, as though inebriated by the immense exhilaration that they were surrounded with. Tifa started laughing too as she tightened her grip around Aerith’s hand, then steered their arms into the air.

In the midst of the joyful celebration, Tifa’s eyes searched for the two figures that mattered to her most: her mother and her father. When she found them in the crowd, they were smiling.

***

“I think the three of us should have a talk.”

Ena was closing the book she had in her hands as she spoke, darting her eyes from her daughter to her husband. It was another afternoon where the trio was spending their time in the reading room. Worn-out rugs and weathered pages of books arranged in the wooden shelves induced a musty odour that would never leave the room. The window was open to let some light in, revealing dusts wafting in the air.

At the writing desk, Brian paused from perusing financial documents to draw on a pipe. “What is there to talk about?”

“You know what it is that we have to talk about,” Ena asserted with slight annoyance. She placed her book onto the table across her, then folded her arms against her chest. “We need to talk about Tifa’s coming marriage to Aerith.”

Brian clicked his tongue, “I never consented to it in the first place.” His heed returned to the papers lying on top of the desk, “And I’m not interested in talking about it either.”

Ena was evidently not in the frame of mind to tolerate his behaviour. She marched towards Brian’s desk and flouting the shock on his face, gathered all the papers into her hands to take them away from his reach. “We are going to have this conversation, whether you like it or not.”

“I think so too,” Tifa, who had been keeping quiet, finally chimed in.

Brian blew out a pall of grey smokes, “My mind has not changed. You are marrying no one else but Mr. Johnny.”

“My mind too has not changed,” Tifa countered, in a manner as insistent as her father’s. “I’m marrying Aerith, no matter what you’re telling me.”

A cloud of tension hung above the heads of the father-daughter duo. None of them was willing to back down. Brian had his eyes narrowed as he was puffing out more billows of smoke, while Tifa remained unflinching. Their thoughts may differ, but their characters were exact reflections of one another.

Ena intervened to offer her own words, “On the other hand… my mind _has_ changed.” Both Brian and Tifa shot her a questioning look, to which she responded, “I fully support Tifa’s decision.”

“Hah! It seems like I’m the only one who’s thinking about the well-being of our family!” Brian exclaimed, almost with resignation. He was shaking his head as his eyes trailed from his daughter to his wife.

Ena rolled her eyes, “Not marrying Mr. Johnny will not cause anything to the family business, if that is what you’re concerned about.” Tired of standing for too long, she walked back to her armchair. “He has spoken to me about it.”

“He did? When?” An eyebrow on Brian’s face lifted with surprise. 

“Well someone has to speak to him after you’ve decided not to show your face around him for Minerva knows why,” Ena said, expressing her discontent about his behaviour as of late.

Finished with smoking, Brian placed the tip of his pipe onto a brass ashtray. “What did he say?” The agitation he had in his conduct vanished into meekness.

“He’s being very understanding,” Ena replied. Her lips turned upside into a smile as she gazed at Tifa, “Tifa and Aerith had already spoken to him.”

Brian stayed quiet, with a hand cupped around his mouth. Tifa decided to close her book and moved to return it to where it was in one of the shelves. As she did so, she made a remark, “There really is no longer any reason for you to be so insistent, father.”

“And what of children? How will you have them?”

“Does it matter?” Ena interrupted before Tifa could give her answer, in a tone hinting that she was more irritated than she initially was. “Why does it matter if they love each other?”

Out from a corridor in between two shelves, Tifa reappeared carrying three books in her hands. Ena and Brian watched as she placed them onto the table near the reading chairs.

She turned to look at her father in the eyes and told him, “I understand your concern.” She paused briefly so she could walk forward until she was hovering over the writing desk, “But I’m marrying Aerith regardless of how things will go from now on.”

Brian expelled a heavy breath and fell his back against the writing chair. “Then I have nothing more to say about the matter.”

Ena rose from her seat once again and came to her daughter’s side. Tifa watched as Ena removed a band from her ring finger, before handing it onto her palm. The band was a circular shape of the Wutaian deity, Leviathan, with its tail inside its mouth. Within the small spaces that were meant to be its eyes, there were moonstones, gems that often represent Icicle Inn’s harsh winter.

“This ring… is my mother’s, my grandmother’s and the ones before us. It has been passed down from generation to generation,” Ena explained as she was running her finger along the band. “I added the moonstones when I married your father.”

A tender smile curved the corners of Ena’s lips as she carried on, “I want… Aerith to have it. I want her to have a part of us.”

Tifa enclosed the band in her palm. “Thank you, mother…”

When they embraced, Ena’s arms felt like the safest place to be for Tifa. Her mother’s acceptance and the lack of objection from her father cleared the pins and needles that had muddled her heart and her mind. The light from the open door towards a future with Aerith seemed brighter and the thought reduced her into tears and quaked her body.

***

At the backyard of a regular size wooden house, white undergarments were hanging and swaying in the wind from a clothesline located near a water well. Through small spaces in between these cloths, Tifa’s profile could be perceived as she retrieved more sheets out of a wooden pail to hang and dry on the clothesline. At some point, a meowing orange tabby cat reached her side and started stroking one of her legs with its paws to demand for food. She laughed and halted to offer it some niblets out of the pockets of her dress. The progress of her task was hampered but she seemed delighted by the interference.

From an open window, Aerith struck her head out and yelled, “Tifa! Breakfast is ready!”

“Coming!”

When Tifa entered the house, she was greeted with the sight and smell of scrambled eggs, baked potatoes and meticulously cut fried meat served on two clay plates. She joined Aerith who had already settled at the dining table.

Aerith passed her two slices of a crispy bread. “I believe Lockhart Grange will be delivering some figs and pomegranates for the next two months, beginning from today?”

“Yes,” she answered while cutting one of her meat into a smaller size. She was chewing it when a thought crossed her mind, “Oh and guavas!”

Aerith scooped several pieces of her potatoes into her spoon and spent a few minutes cooling them down with her breath. “Great! Midgar customers would be excited! They waited for a long time to get the rare flavours of our jams.”

Their breakfast session continued on like it usually did – endless conversations about the state of their family businesses, events written in the daily papers that caught their interests, the blooming plants at their front porch and backyard, their cat and all other matters – until their plates were empty of food. When it was time to leave the house, they would help each other out with putting on dresses that fit their respective lines of work.

Tifa had just swung open the entrance door when she heard Cloud shouting, “AERITH! TIFA! There’s mail from Madam Gainsborough!”

His voice echoed from the front yard of Strife Inn as he started running, until he stopped just a few steps away in front of Tifa. All breathless, he handed a brown envelope in his hand to her, “You might want to read it now. It says _urgent_.”

She unsealed the letter almost immediately so she could start reading its contents.

“What does it say?” Aerith asked with eagerness.

The shape of her lips curved into a beam when her eyes meet Aerith’s curiosity. “Some merchants from North Corel had caught wind of your products and they’re interested to meet!”

Covering her mouth beneath her hands, Aerith let out a gasp with glee.

Tifa wanted to rejoice with her, but just as quickly as she lighted up with joy, a frown on her face signalled the swift change in her reaction not long after. “But wait… are we expected to go all the way to North Corel?”

“Fortunately no!” Tifa giggled. “Madam Gainsborough is expecting us soon!”

“So you will be returning to Midgar again?” Cloud asked. When both Aerith and Tifa laid their eyes on him, he confessed to them, rather sheepishly, “I… am going to Midgar too.”

A teasing grin had arisen on Aerith’s face. “For good?”

Cloud was unwilling to meet their eyes but he nodded, “…For good.”

Tifa let out a light laugh. She was unsure about the ways in which she should express her genuine feelings. It was a mix of emotions – happiness for Cloud who will finally be able to spend the rest of his days with his lover, and sadness over the reality that her childhood friend is leaving their hometown for good.

To her surprise, Cloud started ruffling her hair. “Hey... don’t feel down now. I’m sure we’ll be able to see each other again in some ways.”

He saw right through her, like he always does. And the thought comforted her, “Yeah… we will.”

Aerith who had been watching them from close by moved forward to chip in a reminder, “Alright you two, let’s get going! We have a long day ahead of us!”

“Alright, maam. I’ll start walking now,” Cloud countered, throwing his arms in the air as he started walking.

Cloud was already a couple of distances ahead when Aerith tiptoed closer to Tifa, offering a hand with a smile. “Let’s go?”

Around Aerith’s neck, Ena’s ring was hanging from a necklace. The sight never fail to warm the depths of Tifa’s heart.

She took Aerith’s hand into hers and they started walking.

Such was their everyday life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly just love writing the ceremonial details of the wedding. It was largely inspired by my own culture!


End file.
